


Deny Amaryllis Her Wings

by FlaringDichotomies



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Alienese makes John dyslexic, And Some of the Science is Half Assed, Character Mashups, Concepts from the Original Are Nearly Unrecognizable, M/M, Ugly Mix of SciFi Fantasy and Romance, gender fluidity
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2018-09-14 02:06:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 38,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9152788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlaringDichotomies/pseuds/FlaringDichotomies
Summary: The Kids have high profile military careers laid out for them.  Unfortunately, no one ever asked clone designation JE0 if he wanted a military career.  When his dues come knocking, he can’t kill and he can’t die.  A way out is offered, if only he is willing to dance with trolls and consort with enemies of the State.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update with Char Tags & minor edits 2/4/18.  
> Split into smaller Ch's 2/4/18.

[Sweep 5004 of the Condesce’s Reign] [Field Op]

 

JE0: Pinging DS1. Target in sight.

 

It was a ragged, middle aged man.  Hardly a threat; exactly the sort of target their team was always assigned.

 

DS1: Clear. Proceed.

 

The response, though flagged by the operatives chosen color, was as mechanical as the initial message.  Line protocol cut all the fun from conversing.  Not to imply that the boy at the other end of the line usually spoke with any emotion.

 

JE stalked forward. He couldn't help but glance up through his helmet. Overhead, the brilliant color of the cloudless dusk called to him. The sun would've blinded his sensitive eyes without the visor. Pulling his gaze down, JE crept along the ground, for the sake of the mission. It was only training- the wind was so tempting- but breaking protocol might land him another 300 push ups.  Cutting into his evening break for one now would be counterproductive. 

 

DS1: JE. Abort. Changing target.

 

JE0: But we were almost done with training for the day! Just one more target.

 

JE peeked at the petty burglar he’d been stalking.

 

A poor rendition of a foreign accent joined the line.

 

JH1: Training is over. This one’s a real target. Possible PC detected.

 

JE0: Are you serious?

 

JE’s heartbeat tripled, remembering his terrifying first encounter with a PC.

 

JE0: We’re more than a hundred miles from the border.

 

JH1: Dead so. Sending coordinates.

 

DS1: Clear for flight. Aerial observation requested.

 

JE0: On it.

 

JE crouched. He could feel nerves threatening his taught muscles. Ignoring the tension, he jumped, launching into the air. The wind greeted him like an old friend, carrying him to the coordinates visible in his heads up display.

 

JE0: Details?

 

DS1: Radar detected a strong, negative signature in paradox space. Came out of nowhere. The target is within a few miles of town; we don't have time to call this in. It'd take hours for active guard to show. We’re overriding our trainee restrictions and engaging as per Emergency Protocol 34.

 

JH1: DS and I will be onsite in roughly 18 minutes. Wait for us if it looks too dangerous!

 

All too soon, JE was on top of the new target. It was a dark spot against the dry landscape. JE swallowed.

 

JE0: Target in sight.

 

An entire minute passed before he heard:

 

DS1: Clear. Proceed.

 

JE dropped toward the ground. The dark spot became sharper. It had a head full of dirty, black hair parted by blunt horns and was wearing a torn, grey jacket over dirtied pants lined in red. A troll. It was running across a rocky shelf parallel to a river, darting between trees. JE didn't get close enough to see it’s feral expression before calling on the wind.  Wasting no time, he whipped at the creature’s legs with a harsh gust, moving the air as easily as his own fingers. 

 

It hissed as it tripped and tumbled down the shelf. JE heard a loud crack followed by an inhuman screech, full of sharp clacks and a scraping sound. It made JE’s blood curl. Resisting the urge to shudder, he floated a little closer. The creature’s leg was twisted at a sharp angle.

 

JE0: Target down.

 

JH1: What? Already?

 

JE0: Broke it's leg. Proceeding to close quarters for the kill.

 

DS1: A broken leg means shit if it’s a PC.

 

No concern showed through DS’s training to keep radio traffic at a minimum. Or he didn’t care.

 

JH1: Either way, it's still feral.

 

JE0: Duly noted.

 

JE landed a dozen yards from the troll and pulled out his bayonet, a classic M-16. This would be safer if he had the ranged counterpart of the weapon, but minors were rarely allowed to take semi-automatic weapons outside of the shooting range. While JE was shifting the blade in his hands, he accidentally kicked a rock. What an amateur mistake.  _ Shit. _

 

The troll stifled its cry and sat straight up at the sound. Its fangs were fully exposed, flashing brilliant white amongst creamy grey skin, and its tiny horns were pointed forward. For a moment, it extended wicked claws toward JE. With a blink, it pulled them back and yanked a pair of small, curved knives from it’s belt with hands shaking. Karambits; meant for ruthlessly gutting a target.  An appropriate weapon for a troll.

 

Cursing, JE darted forward.  Planting his feet just within range, he swiped forward confidently.  Despite being apparently immobilized, the troll was able to roll to the side.  It hissed at the bright line JE cut in its forearm and flopped over, its damaged leg unable to support the dodge.  It scrambled to right itself, dropping one of its knives in the process.  JE wiped a few flecks of blood off of his face.  The back of his right hand burned where the blood touched it.  Face twisting into half a grimace, he raised his bayonet for another strike against the troll.  

 

It’s face was streaked with red tears.

 

JE stopped in his tracks, completely exposed to the creature’s remaining knife. It’s red eyes were wide with bloodshot, yellow sclera.  They were filled with intelligence, trying to calculate a way out of this.  _ Panic.  TG, no _ . It's lip quivered as it hissed at him. Those teeth were sharper than razors. Almost unconsciously, JE licked his left canine. If his eyesight were worse, he might mistake that figure for human it was so similar to his own, the dusk obscuring the details. He knew a troll’s anatomy inside and out, down to every last fibrous ligament. Yet,  _ why didn't anyone tell him they look so human in person? _

 

The troll finally got a strong grip on its knife. It held on so tight it's yellow claws dug into its own skin, drawing blood.   _ Desperation _ .  Bright red blood, real blood, not one of the weird, trollish body fluids recorded in the texts JE studied so carefully.

 

His own hands started to shake. Human blood. 

 

It was a troll with human blood. 

 

DS1: Status?

 

JE0: Engaging target.

 

JE choked out. The noise made the troll jump. JE swore he could hear its heart racing. Or was that his own heart?

 

Something in him broke, a feeling previously muffled rising in his chest. 

 

_ Stab it. _  JE’s hands were still raised.   _ They brutally murder us just to steal from our power plants.  They’re uncontrollably violent. Savage. Of the 10 best places to stab a troll, 3 are exposed right now. _ A troll with human blood.  _ This is what you've been training for 6 sweeps for _ . It just looked so pitiful and scared.  How could anyone bear to hurt it?   _ You defend humanity _ .  _  Joining the front lines is your dream, your goal, your purpose for existing. _

 

_ Nonlethal force only. _

 

JE dropped the bayonet.   _ Oh gods, what are you doing?  You are UNARMED.  Its right in front of you, right IN FRONT OF YOU.  It is going to kill you.  RUN.  FLY.  HIDE.   _

 

_ No, it’s okay. _  Where did that thought come from? _  So it has a knife?  It’s just scared.  It doesn’t want to hurt you.   _ JE felt an intense sting in his abdomen, forcing him to exhale.  For a moment, he thought the troll went ahead and stabbed him, but it was just looking at him.  His viscerals were untouched.

 

Actually, the troll was frowning up at him, with its head tilted. Slowly, it raised its claws and opened its palms. It let go of its remaining knife. 

 

_ It dropped its knife _ .

 

JE almost flinched when the tiny blade hit the ground.  _ They never surrender. Too bloodthirsty.  _  Slowly, JE used one hand to point at the troll’s leg, then at himself. It stared at him some more. JE wasn't sure, but it looked slightly less terrified, and more confused. 

 

DS1: Full status please.

 

JE0: Engaging.

 

With deliberation, JE carefully lowered his arms. The troll didn't react. It's hands were still raised, empty.  _ Never get too close. What the fuck did you think happened to my leg, Maryam? _

 

JE started to lower his body. He was moving at half the pace of a crawl.

 

DS1: JE. Comprehensive status report.  ASAP.

 

A little less carefully this time, JE shut off the feed in his helmet. The quick movement startled the troll, and it drew its claws in front of it.   _ Never did see something go from lucid to murderous so quick _ .  JE raised his hands again.  He had no idea why he was doing this. But he couldn't kill it. 

 

After a moment, the troll drew its arms out again, palms open, to mirror JE. The perfect image of surrender, a placable enemy.  _ They're as smart as us, and damn tricky. Don't let yourself be fooled _ .

 

JE lowered himself completely, so he was level with the creature. He was close enough to touch it. It could lean forward and claw out his guts from there. Careful not to make another sudden movement, JE set his backpack down by the creature’s right leg. He pointed to himself, then to the broken leg. “I want to help.”

 

“Ddrstntnnd.” The words the creature made were a warbling mess of consonants.  The sounds clicked deep in its throat, but it wasn't intimidating like the cry. Just curiously unfamiliar, with syllables that rolled together and overlapped.

 

“This will hurt, okay? I need to set your leg.”  JE mimed what he intended to do. 

 

It nodded, as though it understood. “Nkccsdfn. Tw.” Moving just as slowly, it put a leather strap in its mouth, then grabbed onto the rocks beneath them. “DdRdddy.”

 

Huh. That almost looked like… It was bracing itself. Did it understand from just that? JE wasn’t that good at charades... Well, he was going through with this after all.  Taking his eyes off the troll’s claws, JE leaned forward to probe the break. He turned his headset back on to use its basic X-ray function.

 

DS1: JE0. YOU LITTLE SHIT. YOU BETTER NOT BE DEAD.

 

JH1: JE, are you okay?

 

Oops. The radio silence left his two teammates in a panic. 

 

JE0: Signal returned. Reporting status. Target killed. Marking body for retrieval. Backup not necessary. I’ll clean up and return to temporary base of operations.

 

His gut twisted with guilt at the lie. How could he look his comrades in the eye after helping a troll?  _ Why am I helping a troll? _

 

The break was ridiculously clean. Setting it was textbook. There wasn't even any punctured skin atop the cracked chitinous layer, let alone stray nerves complicating the procedure. The troll screeched bloody murder, clinging to the rock so tightly its hands bled. After, it panted heavily and spit out the strap. The leather was torn to shreds from that mouth full of razors. 

 

DS1: The fuck was that?

 

JE0: Left over interference. As predicted, the target may have been a psionic.

 

JH1: Oh curses. Emergency protocol or no, we’ll be in so much trouble for letting you engage a PC on your own.

 

JE muted his microphone, cursing the mistake.  _ Leaving his mic on  _ of all things.  He dug through his backpack for his medical kit. The troll looked apprehensive, eyes widening with fear every time JE touched something resembling a weapon, but it just watched. When JE pulled out the kit labeled with a red plus sign, it visibly relaxed.

 

He dug a thin, telescoping rod out of the kit, along with padding and bandages. Using the materials, he threw together a splint.  After the rod was in place, JE cleaned the cut in the troll’s arm.  It hissed and mumbled when the bandages were secured but otherwise let him work.  Last were the cuts all over its hands.  After finishing, JE sat back and looked at it.

 

It looked back at him. For all the classes on trolls he took and independent research he did, he hadn't the slightest idea whether its facial expressions were supposed to look like that. If it were a human, that quirk to its brow and lip would undoubtedly be a mix of gratitude, relief, and confusion.  Wow, nothing JE studied indicated trolls experienced such complex emotions. He doubted the omission was an accident. It was so  _ easy _ to sympathize with the troll when it made those expressions. 

 

It still had sticky tears all over its face and neck, though it was no longer crying.  Not sure what else to do, JE pulled another piece of dressing out of the first aid kit and dabbed delicately at the troll’s tears.  Sneering, it snatched the pad, and started cleaning itself.

 

Largely clean, it tapped the dry side of the pad against JE’s face, keeping its claws carefully pointed in the other direction.  The dressing came away wet.  “Nkyth.”

 

“What?” That almost sounded familiar.  JE took the dressing back and wiped off his own face.  He was covered in a cold sweat and near tears.   _ God _ , his chest hurt.

 

It bowed toward him. “Thnckcyyuo.”

 

It was thanking him. In English. That settled it for JE. He didn't regret showing mercy to this creature while it was defenseless, even if he had no idea what he was doing from here forward.  “You're welcome.”

 

_ What was he doing? _  JE0 was a unit in UNS Psionics Suppression, 6 sweeps into specialized training.  UNS armed forces  _ culled _ trolls, capturing only on the rarest of occasions.  PCs were simply too dangerous to keep alive, and any troll could be one.   _ This  _ troll could be one.  This troll with human-red blood.

 

It looked like it was in so much pain.

 

JE facepalmed with- ouch- his burnt hand.  Those thoughts were not helping him sort out his next course of action.  If he wasn’t killing this troll, he was going to capture it or release it.  What would it even do if it was released?  It couldn’t walk, and DS would pick up the negative mental field surrounding the troll the moment JE left.  Then it’d be dead,  _ and _ JE would be in trouble.  So.  What?  Was he going to smuggle it back to the training outpost?  The mere thought was enough to make him groan at the sheer idiocy.

 

It made another warbling sound and looked at him with those bright red eyes.  JE rubbed the back of his hand against his pants.  It felt like rubbing salty jalapenos in a wound, wow.  That was really disconcerting.  Nothing in his training said anything about troll blood being highly acidic or basic.  Using a canteen, he ran some water over his hand, scrubbing it quickly.

 

“Wwgotggtrr.”

 

“What?”

 

“FKCCWWEGOTOGHGTHR?”  The troll spoke up, as though JE were simply deaf.  He frowned at it.  Perhaps realizing its mistake, it quieted down and tried enunciating more slowly instead.  “Wwe go.  Toggethhr?”

 

“Yeah.  I’ve got you.”  The words were out of JE’s mouth before he could stop to think about it.  Seems he really was about to smuggle a troll back to his training outpost.  If DS found out, JE was dead and skinned, twice over.  Once for turning traitor and once as a reward for the all time new level of dumb that he achieved.  This beat the stunt JE pulled on TG0 all those years ago by a mile and a step.  Half to himself, he moaned as much. “This is so stupid.”

 

The troll shrugged and gestured to itself.  “STIPPDID FKCC.”

 

JE was starting to understand the overlapping syllables, and that one was pretty straightforward.  He laughed,  _ and it felt so good _ .  “Yeah. We are stupid fucks.”  Wow, when he said it, it was even funnier.  _ We _ , he said. Him and his new troll compadre. It was so absurd, he couldn’t stop laughing. Here he was, chortling with his target, and no one else was present to make him stop. The troll quirked an eyebrow, giving him a look that said  _ I cannot fathom how much of an idiot you truly are _ and JE just laughed harder.

 

“tStapp.” It threw the chewed piece of leather at JE. The slimy thing stuck to his face. The troll started making a scratching sound at the back of its throat. Oh, now it was laughing too. JE peeled the scrap off and threw it back. When the racket finally died down, he and the troll were both clutching their sides, and JE was nearly crying again.

 

“Woo, I haven’t laughed like that in… Wow, have I ever laughed that much?”

 

The troll blinked at him.

 

“Do you have a name?”

 

It blinked at him again.  “Noo HSHITT.  Dd hvev nemm.  DHUH HEVVE NEMM.  HMMN HVE NEMM.  TROLL, SSME HSHITT.”  It took a deep breath.  “Krrk’kt ss.  Krrk’kt Vngtsss.”

 

JE echoed, “Karrk’kat Vangtsass.”  The back of his throat felt rusty, but the sounds came out.  

 

It nodded.  Evidently the pronunciation was close enough to satisfy.  Then, it pointed at him.  “Nemm?”

 

“Oh.  Haha, about that.  If we are following the rules- which I guess we really aren’t here, are we? Then, uh…”

 

“Dnnt ndrestnand.”  It looked concerned.  “Nemm?”

JE stared at the ground. "I don't have a name."


	2. Chapter 2

[5002 CR] [2 sweeps previously] [Psionics Suppression Unit 11113124 Training Facility]

 

“Half an inch off.  Again.  You screwing with me, kid?”  The tall man yanked a knife out of a training dummy, and it disappeared from his hand.  How did he sound so disappointed without so much as a hint of inflection in his voice or a twitch of his eyebrow?

 

“Sorry, Bro.  I’ll try to focus.”  JE0 was uncharacteristically excited for his birthday, and the emotion threw him off.  He was the last of his team to reach 6 sweeps of age, and he’d finally be allowed to join the others on training missions.  Trying to settle down, he adjusted his helmet and moved into a relaxed stance.

 

“Get the next ten strikes correct, and I might let you peek at this.”  A manilla folder appeared, clutched between the man’s slender fingers.  If JE didn’t know better, he’d swear Bro was one of the military’s enhanced clones.  How could a regular human- even a former assassin- possibly move like that?  Even after training under Bro his whole life, being in the same room with him was a little unsettling.  Still, every second of discomfort was worth it ten times over.  When Bro slowed down enough to demonstrate for them, his movements made a panther look clumsy.  JE lusted after that sleekness.  If he could move that fast, he’d be  _ free _ .  He could-

 

Better not to think about it too much.  If JE’s suspicions were correct, that manilla folder detailed his very first training mission.  It wasn’t exactly freedom, but it was outside this blasted training complex.  “Yes, Mr. Strider, sir!”

 

Without so much as a warning, JE’s own knife flew at him.   _ Shit _ , Bro was holding the dummy in one hand and the folder in the other,  _ how does he do it? _  Never hesitating, JE sidestepped and snatched the knife out of the air.  As soon as the weapon was in his hand, the training dummy appeared in front of him.  It glared with angry yellow eyes and squiggly, sharpied on fangs.  It batted a hand at JE.

 

“Between the tertiary hormone gland and digestive sac.”  Bro commanded from behind, even though the dummy was still in front.  A holographic red mark appeared on the dummy’s abdomen.  JE barely processed the words before throwing his weight behind his blade and sliding forward on his left foot.   _ Thunk _ , the knife’s hilt met cloth skin.  In the next moment, the dummy was gone, and the knife was flying at him again.

 

This time, a second dummy with dripping white eyes was tossed in his face.  “Up between the stomach and the pancreas.”  The dummies and commands cycled until JE stabbed through a tenth target.  Bro phased into existence a yard away, along with all ten dummies.  The man stared at JE through ridiculous triangular shades over a rare frown.  The silence dragged on long past uncomfortable.

 

After counting to 100 the second time, JE finally spoke.  “I- Did I do okay?  Is something wrong?”

 

“...Perfect.  Take an early break, kid.”  Bro and his dummies melted out of existence, leaving the folder to float to the ground.

 

“Woohoo!”  JE pumped his fist in the air and picked up the folder. There was a sticky note on it.  _ After you shower. I didn’t raise any slobs. _ Damn. Still, JE couldn’t help but smile a little. Unlike all their other trainers, Bro addressed his students like he was talking to his own kids. JE was proud to be claimed by the assassin like that, even if it was against protocol. Ah well, it’s not like JE had ever met his actual proprietor.

 

Like every other day that perigree, JE was the only one in the showers. They were too large for one kid; empty. JE struggled for a bit to reach all of his back, then scrubbed extra in the space between his legs. The region was starting to get really itchy lately.  

 

Studying one-on-one with Bro was a privilege, but he really missed the other trainees, even RL23 staggering into the guys’ locker without a care in the world.  _ Ya’ll know JC showers at the crack o’ dawn. Not gonna make me wash up all bah mehself are ya? C’mere JE, I know ya need help. _

 

JH1 would get flustered every single time, insisting with ever more fleurish that a gentleman mustn't look upon a pure lady- or some other nonsense that doesn't apply to military property. Especially not them. RL always ended up laughing while JE washed her hair. Sometimes they managed to drag TG0 into the daily ritual. Other days, events escalated to a full on bath war. DS always stayed aloof, marking the farmost corner as a space safe from suds and wash clothes. 

 

Now, there weren't any soap throwing stars to speak of. JE wasn't going to mope though. There was a missive waiting for him, and he'd see everyone soon!  He hurried to finish and shut off the water. His hair was still dripping as he pulled on his day uniform.  It consisted of black leggings and a bright red sweater.  Completing the look, JE was required to wear the looping, silver emblem of some popular sentients rights activist on a handkerchief folded over his left pants pocket.  Until a sweep ago, he donned the standard black jumpsuit lined with his proprietor's color and emblem with his personal designation JE0 printed to the left of its lapel.  However, a single email from his proprietor to his handler requesting the change left his entire wardrobe stuffed with soft, red knits.  At least they were comfortable.

 

It wasn’t the first strange thing JE’s mysterious proprietor did. Sometimes, the man sent ratty, old stuffed animals, bad movies, or blank playing cards in the mail.  Once, he had a hefty joke book and two dozen boxes of cake mix delivered with a letter addressed to the trainee’s secondary handler, absolutely  _ insisting _ that JE read the entire book and bake every last box of cake, all in marathon. The trainees were farting cake and citing Colonel Sassacre for the next perigree.

 

TG insisted that, although the other gifts and demands were downright weird, JE’s uniform was a masterpiece of irony.  The activist the emblem belonged to taught, among other things, that owning another sapient creature was immoral.   _ Including clones _ .  To honor the masterpiece, TG alternated between the same silver emblems and his own jumpsuit.   _ It’s not as ironic as being given the Sufferer’s mark by your goddamn owner, but you still have to appreciate that I’m in uniform when I’m the only loser in our class without some lame old geezer claiming my ass as his own. _  JE just nodded along, never admitting he was jealous of the shades TG was allowed to wear with the jumpsuit, or the rebellious scratch through TG’s given emblem of concentric circles.  JE liked his square glasses, mind, but the idea of  _ choice _ was being dangled in front of his nose.  It smelled so good; of course he was going to drool.

 

JE0 jogged back to the living quarters. In it rested 8 beds and a smattering of posters, books, movies, vinyls, smuggled juice, remains in various states of decay (oh why did  _ half _ his roommates have an obsession with dead things?), and two computers. In other words, everything the trainees owned. The closets filled up a long time ago, so the two spare beds in the corner were downgraded to storage. They were once occupied, but those two trainees were terminated early, leaving the six of them.

 

Thinking about that wouldn’t bring about anything good, either. All JE saw was two storage units, two empty coat hangers.  No dead bodies, no funeral services held in secret.

 

There were an awful lot of clothes and makeup in the room despite the fact that four of the kids living there were only allowed to wear jumpsuits and a fifth was limited to red sweaters.  When their primary handler, First Sergeant Jacob Harley, accused them of breaking protocol, TG claimed every last article as his own, no matter how feminine or what size.  To back his claim, he wore red lipstick and mini skirts for the next perigree straight.  To this day, TG still occasionally showed up for training in clothes that were two sizes two large.  JH, DS, and JC were significantly more well built than the other three; TG’s frame positively drowned in any of their shirts.

 

JE threw his butt at a desk chair, wiggling with excitement.  Mouth split in a grin, he opened the manilla folder. The smile froze on his face. Rather than a full briefing, there was a single sheet of paper in the folder. The words  _ training _ and  _ mission _ were suspiciously absent. Most of the page was blank, with one line written across the center.

 

Permission to contact the following username via secure channels granted: EctoBiologist

 

Signatures: 

Dirk Strider

First Sergeant Jacob Harley

Sergeant Major Roxanne Lalonde

 

Ectobiologist? As in the theoretical gene splicing method? JE ogled the page. Those were some big names on the signature line. Was someone trying to contact him?  Maybe it was TG! Granted, TG’s usual username was TurntechGodhead, but who else had permission that could possibly desire to speak with JE0? The fellow trainee wouldn’t need permission from both their primary and secondary handler just to send a few chats...  Bursting with curiosity, he booted up one of the computers. Wait. Was EctoBiologist supposed to be an email address? There wasn’t a domain listed, and the only other “secure channels” JE used were the encrypted boards on Pesterchum.

 

Ah, what the hell. JE loaded up the Pesterchum client and punched in the username.

 

\-- Sending chum request to EctoBiologist \--

 

He only had to wait a moment.

 

\-- Chum request accepted.  Adding EctoBiologist to chumroll --

\-- Received invitation to secure memo introductions on encrypted board family reunion!!! from EctoBiologist \--

 

JE glanced at the three users already on the board. Did just joining the board count as illicit interactions with people he didn’t have permission to speak with? He hoped not, since he was far too tempted to accept the invitation.

 

\-- GhostyTrickster joined secure memo introductions on encrypted board family reunion!!! --

\-- Received key to encrypted board family reunion!!! ---

 

EB: hello hello

EB: i’m in a meeting, hold on for five minutes please!

GT: Hello.

GT: Oh, okay.

 

While he waited, JE tried looking up the other two usernames using a custom search engine he put together. In theory, the search wouldn’t leave a trace behind. JE wasn’t that great of a coder, and he could only pray the engine worked as desired. Careful not to click on anything that he wouldn’t be allowed to read, JE parsed through the information. The first username returned a mix of discussions on social justice, practical joke forums, and a few essays in which the user tried to very kindly explain to some cultists that they were poor, confused souls. The second username was splattered all over baking sites, wrestling channels, illicit gambling hubs, fashion forums, history debates, and some kind of trashy webcomic. Must’ve been some false positives in there.

 

Finally, JE searched ectobiologist.  Predictably, no amount of tweaking with the settings returned the username. Rather, an endless list of articles and conspiracy theories on the theoretical science filled the monitor. No matter how many nutters insisted there were already paradox clones living among us, the more scientific material suggested that humanity was a long ways from achieving anything of significance in the field; trollkind even more so.

 

EB: i’m back.

EB: sorry for making you wait for so long :(

GT: No worries, sir/ma’am.  It was only a few minutes.

EB: no need for formalities or caps! though sir, if you must.

EB: you use our eye color for your chat font. so cute! ε>

GT: Pardon?

EB: anyways, i wasn’t apologizing for the meeting.

EB: i meant for not talking to you for the past 6 sweeps.  i couldn’t get permission until now.

GT: Please pardon my ignorance. Do I know you, sir? I wasn’t debriefed before I was given your username.

EB: darn it strider.  did he at least tell you i’ve been trying to contact you?

GT: No, sir.

EB: oh for goodness sake

EB: for the record, i’ve submitted over 400 requests to contact you.

GT: 400 requests?

EB: i was running out of new reasons to enter that required communicating with you.  rolal finally took it when i said i’d need to talk to you about puberty, of all things!

GT: Excuse me, sir. You put in over 400 requests to talk to me about puberty? I fail to see why this is a pressing matter.

EB: no, boy! i don’t actually want to talk to you about puberty.

EB: i suppose we should at some point. there might be some things you need to know.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks much for reading! <3


	3. Chapter 3

[5004 CR]

 

“Officially, I don’t have a name.  Just a code.”

 

“Hh.”  The troll, Karkat, went quiet and gave him a long, sad look.

 

JE0 tapped his fingers together.  If anyone found out that he was harboring a troll, the last thing they’d care about was what the creature addressed him as.  “But… If you want to, you can call me John. John Egbert. That’s the name I’d want if I was allowed to have one.”

 

Karkat nodded.  “Jnohn.  Too stippidd fkcc clall mmyebe.”

 

“No, not that!”  John chuckled again.

 

Without another thought, John grabbed and sheathed his machete. He couldn't place why, but he was completely comfortable turning his back on the troll to do so. He didn’t feel even slightly threatened when it reached for its own abandoned knifes.  “Ggo?” it asked.

 

“Yes.  I’m going to pick you up, okay?”  John leaned over the troll and scooped it up.  He did his best to cradle it’s right leg, so it's other appendages were left to the wind. Without hesitating, the troll wrapped its arms around John’s shoulder and neck to secure itself. It really had completely handed its fate over to John, to a bred hunter that it never should’ve trusted even if the stars burned out. 

 

[5002 CR]

 

“Hey, kiddo.  We need to talk.” Bro appeared in front of JE0 and set a black box on the table.

 

JE lowered his fork and pushed aside his morning ration.  “Hello, sir!  What’s up?”

 

Breaking all precedent, the man sat across from JE. He hit a switch on the black box, and a high pitched hum filled the space. JE recognized that the sound would’ve been outside his hearing range, were he not one of the models of clones with improved senses. “You can drop the formalities, kid.  No one will notice.”

 

“...Bro? That- that box you have. I don’t think it’s legal.”

 

“Signal disruptor? It's not. I don’t need to tell you that you’re monitored 24 hours a day. This is a necessary precaution.” 

 

JE swung his head in a circle, paranoia setting in.  _ Surely _ someone would notice them, but, no, there was no one present in the mess hall. It was deserted as usual.  “Bro, is something wrong? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you break protocol.” JE tapped his fingers together and smiled a little. “Aside from calling me kiddo.”

 

Breaking precedent yet again, Bro yanked his glasses off. The shades disappeared, and the man made real eye contact with JE for the first time. His eyes were the same disconcerting orange as his clone, DS. “JE. Your training results have been… different from the other kids.”

 

JE felt his throat go dry. “Am I failing? Is there going to be disciplinary action? Or- or program termination?”

 

Without the shades, JE caught the flash of pain in his mentor’s eyes. “If I reported the results, maybe. I’ve been falsifying my summaries of your training exercises for several perigrees now.”

 

“You  _ what?! _ ” JE felt a sudden onset of dizziness and grabbed the table for support. “You’ll get reprimanded or lose your job or, or arrested if someone finds out! Why?!”

 

The man grimaced. “You’re one of my kids. I ain’t gonna lose a third.”

 

JE had to take a few deep breaths. Yes, Bro was much less likely to address them as mere clones than the other trainers, even offering parental advice from time to time, but being kind didn’t cost the man anything. It wasn’t  _ illegal _ . Eventually, JE found what he hoped were the best words for the revelation. “Thank you.”

 

The man grunted. “About those results.”

 

JE nodded, bracing himself.

 

“Your performance is phenomenal, exceeding all expectations.”

 

“Pardon?” Did he hear that correctly?

 

“You focus singlemindedly on your studies, and you’re the only one of the six of you not to break your reading restrictions. Your test scores are overall excellent.”

 

“...is that- what?”

 

“While you’re still lagging far behind the rest of your team in martial proficiency, the recent one-on-one training has shown unexpected improvement in your performance, boosting you above the average.”

 

“Uh. Thank you. Is- so did I do something wrong?”

 

Bro nodded, freezing JE in his seat. “From what I’ve gathered recently, you’ve developed a serious complex and hidden it perfectly during every first-of-the-perigree psychological examination.”

 

JE flinched, as though slapped in the face. “What? No, I wouldn’t lie to the examiners!”

 

“I know you wouldn’t. That there’s the problem. Every one of your teammates has some kind of hobby and possessions that they aren’t supposed to have.” Darn, they all thought they hid that from Bro. “You don’t. From what I can tell, you exclusively screw around with the shit Crocker sends you. Aside from that, you just study.”

 

“...Those are hobbies, right? He’s sent a lot of movies I really like! I even have a favorite-”

 

“That’s the attitude that has gotten you through the exams without flagging anything.” Bro leaned toward him. The man was acting so  _ different _ today. Rather than his usual unperturbed air, he was positively radiating fury. “ _ I know better _ . No matter how much you squeal gratingly over your favorite movie, you wouldn’t ever dare pirate the sequel, and you’ll never see it unless you’re given permission. You follow even the most harmless rules to a goddamn T regardless of your own interests.”

 

“I- I’m sorry!” JE squeaked, cowering. If Bro tried to actually kill him for not reporting his teammates,  _ he didn’t stand a chance. _

 

The fury dissolved near instantly, and the man sat back. Tentatively, as though unsure of himself, the man laid a hand on JE’s shoulder. “I’m angry with myself, kiddo. Don’t apologize.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“If you’re more comfortable this way, I’m not going to make you find any new hobbies or anything. However, I’m not allowing this complex of yours to endanger your life or your team’s.”

 

“...Pardon?”

 

“You do everything you’re told ‘cause you’re required to, without regard for whether you want to. And you don’t want to be a killer.”

 

JE tried to answer, but his throat was completely dry. He shook his head in denial and downed his orange juice.

 

“...I see you haven’t noticed then. Recently, I’ve prioritized training you in non-lethal force. Every time I attempted to switch back to exercises in lethal force, your performance dropped significantly.”

 

“I’m sorry, sir! I’ll try harder. I’ll-”

 

_ “No.” _ Bro threw a hand down on the table. He stared at JE, jaw clenched for a long moment. Deep breath. “Kiddo, do you even want to be in the military?”

 

The man waited patiently for him to answer. “...No one has ever asked me before.”

 

“I’m asking you now. I know you don’t have a choice, but you’re gonna think about it anyways. Until you have an answer, I’m tellin’ you to  _ always _ use nonlethal force.  Only ever make an exception against PCs. They’re extremely dangerous and will kill you the moment you slip up. Understand?”

 

“Maybe?”

 

“No matter what your orders are, no matter what I tell you from here on out- especially when the higher ups are listening- use nonlethal force. You’re much more efficient when you do; less hesitation and you’ll be less likely to get yourself or your teammates killed.  _ Do you understand what I’m asking of you? _ ”

 

The fury returned, lighting up those orange eyes.  “...You want me to disobey orders?”

 

His mentor nodded. “You can’t get yourself killed, and you don’t need to grow up like me.”

 

JE thought about that for awhile. He dared a question. “Is that why you aren’t an assassin anymore?  You hesitated and your leg was injured?”

 

The man shook his head. “I never hesitated, kid, and I didn’t let a maimed leg slow me down. I liked my job just fine, and I killed whoever I was told to, troll or human.” Bro sighed. “After sweeps with special forces, I got bored and I transferred to this military academy. Raising kids is a lot more rewarding.”

 

“Oh.”

 

The man pulled back, tense expression masked again. “Dammit, if you take my advice once in your life, now is the time. Consider it.” He disappeared with his black box, leaving JE alone with the silence to process everything.

  
  


[5004 CR]

 

“Hold on a sec, Karrk’kat, I’m getting a call.” John opened the comm channel in his helmet. JH1’s voice filled his ears.

 

JH1: JE! What in tarnation is going on? We went back to base thinking you’d return soon. DS is so worried.

 

DS1: By that, JH means he’s worried.  I could care less if you fuck off and never come back.

 

JE0: Oh man, this is so embarrassing. I don't know how to break it to you guys.

 

JH inquired nervously,

 

JH1: Did something go wrong?

 

John sighed, and hoped the sigh sounded realistic. He was certainly tired enough for it.

 

JE0: The body fell in the river. I thought if I stalled long enough, I'd find it for sure. At least from my vantage point. No luck. Do you see anything on the radar?

 

Please say no. Please say no. 

 

DS1: Nothing. Which is odd. We should've at least seen a decrease in negative psychic signature when you offed it.

 

_ Oh shit _ . John chuckled. The sound came out all nerves.

 

JE0: Maybe it's ambient or something?

 

Seeing through to the nerves but not their source, DS said,

 

DS1: Hey, don’t panic and fuck anything else up. This was a remedial training mission in the first place. There was never supposed to be anything serious on the agenda. Relax.

 

John couldn't keep his voice even. Even if his comrades didn’t like him, they were still good to him, and he was betraying them because he was too weak to kill.

 

JE0: Thank you, DS. I'm on my way back now. The wind is a little unstable, so I’m returning on foot.

 

With Karkat’s leg in this state, flying was definitely out of the question. Jostling a broken leg with turbulence would fucking kill.

 

DS1: Send me the coordinates and timestamp you last saw the body at. I’ll handle the report to Doc Mar. We may have follow ups, but I’m not expecting any backlash. Mar will take care of us.

 

JE0: They’re in your inbox.

 

DS closed the line without a goodbye.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> NO NEW CONTENT
> 
> The hiatus is finally over!!! I've dropped some of the coloring, changed some tags, and a made edits on the coding half. On the content half, if you read Amaryllis before 2/4/18, chapters 1-3 were Waaaaay too long and have now been split into 1-20. Chapters 5-25 should go up about once every three days as I make finishing touch ups.
> 
> If you want to see any of the unedited content from before 2/4, feel free to PM me.

[5002 CR]

 

The destination was Houston, their mentor’s city of origin.  Quite appropriate, in JE0’s opinion. His debut of the skill imbued into him by Bro, his first training mission, would take place in the former assassin’s old hunting ground. The conversation regarding his performance hung heavily on him, apprehension mixing with his excitement.

 

As per instructions, JE walked from the airport to a small cafe. He wanted to take in all the local sights, but the sun was blinding him. Ah well, at least the warm air was pleasant. Ducking into the coffee shop, he sighed with relief. After blinking a few times, he glanced around and beamed. There were so many people, just relaxing! JE was relieved to notice his sweater and leggings weren’t too out of place. He wondered what his teammates were wearing.

 

“Can I help you? Or are you waiting for your parents?”

 

The barista was looking at him. Her makeup was caked on thick, and she wore a top hat. Was that normal? “Oh! No. Can I get a…” JE blanked on what he was supposed to order. He stepped up to the counter and handed the woman the debit card he was given for the training mission. “Get me whatever you recommend.  Something sweet, like cake! And I think you can charge a $5 tip to this.”

 

“Sure thing. Can I maybe see an ID, if you have one? This is a military debit card. Did you borrow this from your dad?”

 

“Oh, right. Sorry, ma’am.” JE blushed and fumbled through his back  After a moment, he handed the middle aged woman his military ID. His hand brushed against her glove. Her proportions were strange, and it unsettled him a little. “I’ve never used my debit card before. I didn’t realize... Please let me know if you need anything else.”

 

“It’s been ages since I’ve heard a young man as polite as you,” the woman commented as she rung up an order, with a hint of surprise in her voice. The white of her eyes was pure, like fresh snow, and her face was free of wrinkles. All the same, something in her voice made her seem old. “How about a cinnamon hot chocolate and a tiramisu for you?”

 

“Sure, if you think those are good.” JE nodded and stood politely to the side.

 

“Have a seat.  I’ll bring your order out to you, dear.”

 

“Ah, of course.  Thank you.” JE beamed at her. He’d have to thank Bro later for arranging this stop as part of the mission. Sitting down, he took out his new helmet and put it on, as instructed. The visor covering the upper half of his face was deeply tinted. Just as his eyes adjusted, the barista set down a paper mug and a little cake. She didn’t blink often enough.

 

“Here you are!”

 

“Thank you, ma’am.”

 

The barista didn’t walk away, as expected. “Say, do you follow the Sufferer’s teachings?” The woman pulled a necklace out from under her uniform. It had two silver curly-cues, just like the symbol JE wore.

 

JE waved his hands, caught off guard. “Ah, no ma’am! My… dad gave me this handkerchief.”

 

“Well, you are welcome to ask me about him anytime.” The barista went back to the counter.

 

JE took a sip of the hot chocolate and turned on his helmet.  _ So good _ .

 

JE0: Reporting in.

 

For the first time in over a perigree, he was greeted by his teammates voices.

 

TG0: We’re here. How you been man?

 

RL23: JE! Hot damn.

 

JH1: You’re finally six sweeps! Gimme a virtual hug.

 

JC1: Glad to hear from you!

 

DS1: Ya’ll suck at keeping the radio air clean.

 

JC1: Calling them out on it will make the problem worse, silly.

 

DS1: I was including you, JC.  We can catch up later.

 

RL23: Kill the mood much of our sweet, sweet reunion, jeez.

 

JE0: Hi everyone!

 

John greeted around a mouthful of tiramisu. Wow. The cakes he threw together with JC were good, but there was something to be said about professional desserts. 

 

JE0: Oh man! Who knew hot chocolate was so good? No wonder it’s a tradition in those holiday movies!

 

A collective silence developed, no one sure how to return the comment.

 

RL23: Right.  Why don’t you take it from here, Mr. Acting Captain?

 

TG0: Sure thing. We have two missions for today. The first is to detain a local criminal that’s been giving the police trouble. The second is to investigate reports of some locals that may have connections to a terrorist organization.

 

JE0: Wow, that sounds pretty serious for my first training mission!

 

JH1: Don’t be silly, JE! This is nothing compared to trolls.

 

RL23: Espesh the PCs. Them are crazy mofos. Throwin cars at cha, shootin lasers with their minds, and whatnot.

 

TG0: Anyways.  JC1, JH1, defer to DS1 on the murderer.  RL23 and JE0, you’re with me on the terrorist reports.  I’m cutting our comm channel in two to clear radio space.  The main channel will stay open in case of emergencies.

 

DS1: Thank you, TG. DS signing out of main channel.

 

JH1: Later!

 

TG0: Jah.

 

JC1: We’ll catch up later, JE! I want to hear about that treat you’re eating.

 

JE0: What, how could you tell I’m eating?

 

RL23: Your helmet is broadcasting video, dum dum. I’m switching channels.

 

JE mentally flicked the switch to turn on the secondary channel and mute himself in the main channel.

 

JE0: JE in.  So what’s the plan?

 

TG0: Not much of a plan.  We investigate.  I make a brief report.  Harley tells us what to do next.

 

RL23: Didn’t know ya had so much talent for this JE.

 

JE0: What?

 

RL23: Ya already got the target ta talk about the Sufferer.  That’s a p big anti-UNS flag right there.

 

TG0: No shit.  At this rate, you’ll be acting captain next mission.

 

JE lowered his voice.

 

JE0: You mean the weird, old lady is the suspect?

 

TG0: Right in one.  Claire Jordan, mid 30s.  It’s no wonder she was flagged.  Idiot chats about that shit with anyone that walks through the door.

 

RL23: Why don’t ya take up her offer and ask her about the Sufferer?  And order another drink!

 

TG0: RL and I are next door if anything comes up.

 

JE0: Uh, sure.  I don’t see how this is going to help prepare us to fight PCs though.

 

TG0: Fuck if I know.

 

JE drained his cup and walked up to the counter.  “Hi, ma’am.  Could I get a refill, please?”

 

“Sure thing.  You enjoyed it then?  We use real milk!”

 

“Yeah, it was good.”  While the barista mixed the new beverage for him, he held up the handkerchief, “So what is the Sufferer?”

 

The woman said wistfully,  “He was a very brave person that freed us.  Over eight hundred sweeps ago, humanity and the lower blood castes were enslaved by trollkind.”  JE nodded along.  He knew that part.  “In a time of violence, the Sufferer taught us about peace.  At the risk of his own life, he crossed the Earth, explaining why he valued equality.  Along the way, he freed slaves and turned many of his enemies to his cause.”

 

Claire offered the refilled cup to JE.  “How’d he survive?  The trolls have some crazy fighters.  Our military still struggles with them today, even with modern technology.”

 

“The Sufferer and his closest followers were  _ better _ .”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“They were among the twelve most powerful psionics in history.”

 

“Wait,  _ they were trolls? _ ”

 

Claire raised an eyebrow.  “Surprised?”

 

“Well, I always thought it must’ve been  _ people _ that freed humanity, you know?”

 

“That’s one way to put it, I suppose.  Regardless of species, the Sufferer exhibited deep sympathy for all the victims of troll society and Earth’s ruler at the time, the Condesce.”

 

“Did he really mean it though?  I’ve seen what trolls do to us.  They’re vicious.”

 

“Who knows.  It happened so long ago that no one is sure what happened to the Condesce and the Sufferer.”

 

“Why do you have that emblem, then?”  JE inquired, hoping he sounded sincere.

 

The barista smiled.  “These days, the Sign of the Sufferer is used by one of the current Alternian Empresses and her matesprit, to represent interspecies peace.”

 

TG0: Definitely sounds like a fuckin traitor.

 

RL23: Doesn’t mean she has terrorist connections, though.

 

John kept his face blank, so the barista didn’t notice the other conversation he was listening in on.  Politely, he inquired, “Are you referring to Amaryl Peixes or Feferi Peixes?”

 

“Amaryl.  If you listen to speeches, Feferi seems to have similar intentions, but she gets lost in the politics of it.  More of a puppet leader, if you ask me.  Are you familiar with Amaryl’s matesprit, my dear?”

 

“No, ma’am.”

 

“He’s an interesting troll, Kigeli.  Wears contacts and hides his blood color, then tells others they should be proud of who they are.  Nevertheless, he’s a very persuasive speaker, and he and Amaryl managed to split the entire empire into two over blood rights.”

 

JE nodded along, unsure if any of this was relevant to his mission.  It sounded more like political gossip.  Nonetheless, he did his best to follow.  “And you wear his emblem because… You agree with him?”

 

Claire nodded.  “Somewhere in the power gap between the Condesce’s death 800 sweeps ago and Amaryl’s appearance 100 sweeps past, humanity became the ones picking on trollkind.”

 

“Trolls are the ones that raid us, though.  Tear apart everything in their path, infant to elderly.”  JE did his best not to frown or react negatively to the blasphemous statement.  He must not have succeeded.

 

RL23: Calm your tits, JE.  Don’t shut her down.

 

TG0: Still not sure why Bro insisted you do the interrogation. RL and DS are the ones trained for this shit.

 

The barista frowned.  “That’s how a lot of people see it.  Not every troll is intent on raiding power plants though.”

 

“So? We still need to fight them!”  JE insisted.

 

TG0: JE, reign it in a bit.

 

Claire smiled at him.  “Oh, of course, dear.  If you respect what the military does for us, I won’t tell you you’re wrong.  I just hope we can reach a ceasefire some day.”

 

RL23: Ask how she hopes to accomplish that.

 

JE shook himself.  Focus.  This was his first mission.  “A ceasefire… Do you think that’s possible, with our government the way it is now?”

 

The woman snorted.  “Hardly.  The idiots in charge of the UNS would rather bicker all day than change something.”

 

“What do you think we should do?”  JE prompted.

 

The woman sighed.  “Skaia only knows…”

 

TG0: What?  Are you serious?

 

It took JE a moment to realize TG was communicating on another channel.

 

TG0: We can’t do that!  We don’t have any proof yet, sir.

 

A voice joined the line.

 

JH0: TG0, you are overstepping your bounds.  RL23, this is Sergeant Harley speaking.  You are being promoted to Acting Captain for this mission.  JE0, you are ordered to eliminate the target.

 

TG0: Sir!  Bring her in for questioning, so we can get something solid or

 

His voice cut out.  Presumably, he was forcibly muted.

 

“Is everything alright, dear?”  Claire asked.

 

“Uh, yeah.  I just need a moment to process this.”

 

“Of course.  Let me know if you need anything else.”

 

Another voice joined the line.

 

DS0: This is Strider.  TG, stand the fuck down, right now.  JE, kill her.

 

Nodding to himself, JE palmed a small knife from his pocket.  Claire raised an eyebrow at him.

 

The door to the cafe burst open.  TG ran in, with RL hot on his heels.

 

RL23: TG, stop!  What are you doin?

 

“This isn’t right!”  TG yelled back.

 

DS0: JE, now.

 

JE0: Yes, sir.

 

TG jumped on JE and clawed at his knife.  “Don’t do it, man!  What if she’s innocent?”  RL immediately tugged him off, showing her superior grappling strength.   TG managed to break RL’s grip and punched her.

 

JH0: TG0, you are assaulting other officers and interfering with a mission.  That is grounds for termination, you dunderhead.

 

DS0: Wait, sir.  It was just a minor infraction.

 

JH0: That’s an order.  JE0, Jordan is your target.  RL23, if TG0 doesn’t surrender, you are charged with eliminating the clone.

 

RL23: What?! But, sir

 

DS0: No.  RL, stand down.  JE, take both targets.

 

JE0: Sir?

 

Claire gave him a questioning look before hurrying from behind the bar.  She approached TG.  “Oi!  Please, no fighting in the cafe.”

 

TG pushed her to the side and ran at JE.

 

DS0: Now.

 

JE grimaced.  RL didn’t have the extra training in nonlethal strikes.  He prayed that was why Bro overrode Harley’s order-  _ go to hell Harley. I don't care if you're as bad as any other handler, I wish it was you and not TG _ \- and he didn’t have time for any other thoughts.  He threw his arm forward and up to meet TG as his teammate charged him.  The boy was stopped in his tracks.  He stared down dumbly at the knife sticking out of his abdomen, then looked back up at JE.

 

JE only looked for an instant, but he’d never forget that expression as long as he lived.  TG’s face was twisted by horror and abject betrayal, helmet askew.  His flat mouth cracked open, one sharp tooth hanging out, and his red eyes were wide.  JE growled defensively, the sound coming from the back of his throat.   _ It’s not my fault.  Don’t look at me like that. _  He yanked the knife back out and clocked TG in the gut in one smooth motion.  The boy crumpled.

 

RL23: TG!

 

RL’s voice cracked.

 

JE turned to the barista.  The woman had a knife out herself.  Her hat fell in her haste, revealing long horns the color of flames; one smooth, the other hooked.  Her face was twisted into a vicious mask- nothing of the barista left- with overlong fangs bared, an image out of a nightmare.  She raised her other hand, and it glowed limegreen.

 

DS0: Motherfucker, radar just picked up a powerful PC. Fuckin’ run. That’s an order, full retreat.

 

JE scooped up TG and dashed toward the door.  At the last second, he decided on the faster option and, wrapping around TG protectively, threw himself into the storefront’s window.  Barely pausing on the landing, JE ran right into the street.  The adrenaline must’ve got to him.  As though unhindered by the extra weight, he jumped right over an oncoming car.  Reaching the other side of the street, he bolted right.

 

JE0: RL, status!

 

If she answered, it was drowned out by a great rending.  JE would’ve sworn the whole world was being torn by the hands of a vengeful god, the noise was so awful.  His ears popped, and he heard RL scream as though from far away.  He turned back toward the cafe.

 

JE0: Oh god.

 

JE stumbled.  Suddenly, TG seemed heavy, like the thin boy weighed five hundred pounds, and JE was a regular kid that couldn’t toss several times his own weight around.

 

JE0: RL?

 

DS0: Fuck.  RL, status!

 

The entire cafe and part of the street were  _ gone _ , leaving no debris behind.  A huge circle ate into the ground and the nearby buildings.  Anything on the edge of the circle was torn apart.

 

DS0: JE, status?

 

JH0: JE0, report your status immediately.

 

Oh,  _ shut up already _ .  JE carefully lowered TG to the sidewalk.  Cutting off the voice of his handler, he set the helmet next to the boy.  God, it was bright out.  Without another thought, he ran back toward the cafe.  All the cars were halted, so he didn’t have to dodge traffic this time.  RL lay at the edge of the circle, unmoving.  Her entire right foot was missing.  “Oh my god, oh my god.”

 

JE froze up.  TG was going to be terminated and RL was bleeding out in the street.  Not both of them at once, not again.  He blinked, trying to see in the bright daylight.  No, don’t be silly.  There wasn’t any blood.  Ha, ha, it was frosting.  Bright pink.  It probably tasted like sugar.  In the midst of hysterics, JE took off his backpack and pulled out his medical kit.  Heh, look.  There’s an emergency tourniquet in his medical kit.  Why would he ever need that?  He didn’t even process what he was doing as his training took over.  Were those his hands covered in frosting?  Oh, now the tourniquet is covered in it too.  Ha, ha, tied you up RL.  No more pink frosting for you.

 

Does it taste as sweet as it looks?  Some silly person heated it up, so it was too runny.  JE sat back and licked at his fingers.  The mix of salt and metal shocked him out of it.  He coughed and spat.   _ Shit, he was so stressed, he couldn't think straight. _ He grabbed the medical pack again.  This time, he yanked out a small syringe and screwed a fresh needle into it.  He stabbed the device into the major vein in his elbow, then tossed it aside, ignoring proper disposal procedure.   
  
Okay, sit back.  Deep breath.  And another.  When he thought he was under control, he looked at RL, squinting and shading his eyes.  So he wasn’t hallucinating.  That was good, right?

 

RL had pink blood.  Why did RL have pink blood?  Doesn’t matter.  JE had to do something about it, or she might be mistaken for… for  _ something _ , resulting in another termination order.  Civilians could notice any minute now.  He pulled the girl away from the pool of blood, careful not to jostle the tourniquet.  With his knife, he cut off her pants and threw them into the puddle.  It was followed shortly by his sweater and leggings, both of which were smeared with the girl’s blood.  Finally, he pulled out a box of matches.  It took a few tries to set the clothes on fire, but eventually one flame took.

 

The blood wasn’t burning, of course.  It was mostly water.  Fortunately, it was close enough to the fire to char into a reddish brown.  Wonder what forensics would make of that one?  Very little if they were lucky, and the heat broke down any strange proteins in the blood.  Satisfied, JE turned to the last obstacle, RL herself.  The tourniquet couldn’t be safely removed, and it was covered in the sticky, off color substance.  JE pulled bandages from the med kit and wrapped them all around his teammate’s shin, covering both the- the  _ stump _ and the tourniquet.  Some of the bandages were stained pink, but it wasn’t bad.  JE pulled off his shirt and tied it over the bandages.

 

That took care of all the pink.  Oh, except for the blood dried to his hands.  If he wiped them off, he’d have to burn whatever he used.  He was out of bandages and his backpack was flame retardant, too.  Bother.  Not thinking of a better option, JE licked them clean.  There goes his lifelong streak of, hmm,  _ not being a cannibal _ .  He fought back the urge to puke and gently picked up RL.  Was the girl even breathing?  He couldn’t tell.  He was shaking too violently.  He carried RL across the street and set her down beside TG.  Remembering the stab wound, he rolled TG’s shirt up.  It wasn’t serious by design, but it was still bleeding.   _ Shit _ , why’d he blow through all of his bandages?  He didn’t see RL or TG’s backpacks anywhere, either.  Grunting, he pulled TG’s shirt off and cut it into a long, winding strip and wrapped it around his teammate.  The shirt was already red, so it was hard to tell how well it stifled the bleeding in the overbearing daylight.

 

JE noticed TG’s mouth was hanging open.   _ What the fuck _ .  The boy’s jawline was an ugly mix of flat teeth and sharp fangs.  JE shuddered and nudged the boy’s jaw shut.  His teammates were… Were what?  TG0 was supposedly a clone like the rest of them, but all records of his original disappeared without a trace.  For all legal purposes, TG  _ was _ the original, but JE wouldn’t be surprised if his teammate was actually some kind of freaky UNS experiment.  In a way, they all were; their genomes tweaked so they’d be faster, stronger, and more resilient.  As clones, they were considered subhuman, but still generally human.  Was TG not a clone; something… else?  RL23 looked exactly like her original, Roxanne Lalonde, their secondary handler and highly successful anti psionics agent.  She was clearly a copy.  So… JE’s mind blanked.

 

Exhausted, JE sat on the ground between his two unconscious teammates.  His foot bumped into his helmet.  Oh, right.  He shoved the device on his head.  Oh, that was better.  He could see properly now.  The relief lasted a fraction of a second; voices flooded his ears.

 

JC1: -haven’t the slightest-

JH1: that sound-

DS1: -hear me, JE?

 

JH0: Shut your damn flipping flaps, all of you!

 

His teammates instantly hushed. 

 

JH0: JE0, report your status.

 

JE looked at RL.  Now that he was seated and had his visor, it was easier to see that she was breathing. Thank goodness.

 

JE0: Status report, 11113124-1.  RL23 and TG0 are unconscious, presumed stable following emergency medical aid.  The cafe up and went missing, leaving no debris; destroyed by the PC.  Number of casualties unknown.  Current location of PC unknown.  Additionally, my mind slowed down- I got confused- and self administered an adrenaline cocktail.

 

Thinking on his feet, JE constructed a lie. Daring to utter such a thing in a report terrified him, but he was backed into a corner.

 

JE0: I think I’m unharmed, but I don’t know whether the lapse was caused by stress or a result of mind class psionics.  I think the later, seeing as TG and RL both exhibited highly unusual behaviour.

 

JH0: ...Thank you JE0.  Since TG0’s a low risk at the moment, I’m recalling his termination order for the time being.  Remain where you are.  Your team will rendezvous with you there.  Consider the mission over.  We’re bringing in a full team to investigate.”

 

JE0: Sir?  How did the troll get past radar? We may still be at risk.

 

JH0: Not a darn blasted clue.  Hold your position.  Strider, you take over from here.

 

DS0: Yes, sir.

 

The dark green marker in the corner of JE’s visor disappeared.  

 

DS0: You’re acting captain for now, DS.

 

DS1: Acknowledged.

 

DS0: Status?

 

DS1: We’ll be at the cafe in a few minutes.  If you were watching the feed, we already turned the target over to the police.

 

DS0: Good work.  Is everyone alright?

 

DS1: Mission was textbook on our end.  So why the fuck are TG and RL unconscious?

 

JE0: Uh.  TG was stabbed and concussed. RL passed out from blood loss, possibly shock.

 

JC1: Oh my goodness! What happened?

 

JH1: Did you say TG of all the folks was stabbed? The rascal is never caught off guard.

 

JE0: It’s just a superficial wound.

 

DS1: Cold. Did the suspect do it or a third party?

 

JE0: ...Turns out the suspect isn’t human.  It’s a PC.

 

DS1: You’re trying to tell me you encountered a fuckin’ PC on your first training mission, right in the middle of a human city.

 

JE0: You’ll believe me when you get here, man.

 

JC1: My, there is so much traffic.

 

JE0: Yeah, there’s a car torn in half.  It’s sort of blocking the road.

 

JC1: ...in half. Hoo boy.

 

JE0: I agree.  Fortunately, I don’t see anyone else that was, err, injured like RL.  I don’t know if the people in the cafe are still alive though.

 

JH1: Oh my!

 

DS1: Bit of understatement there, J.

 

JC1: What on Earth?! This looks awful!

 

With a groan, JE stood and waved to flag down his team.  

 

JE0: Mr. Strider?  I think we are going to need you.  And your box.

 

DS0: Better be fuckin serious for you to dare mention that.

 

JE0: I wish it wasn’t.

 

The three trainees picked their way through frozen traffic and terrified citizens, running over to JE.

 

Before anyone could comment on the horror of the situation, before JC could croon over RL’s unconscious form, or even so much as notice her foot-

 

DS1: Where the fuck are your clothes?

 

Yeah, there was no bluffing his way through this one.  TG and RL were half naked, and he was only wearing underwear.

 

JE0: Burned.  Can I just borrow a shirt or something?

 

JC1: Oh, goodness.  Are you hurt?  I have some burn salve.

 

JE0: Uhh.  Just our clothes burned.

 

DS channeled Bro into that scrutinizing look.

 

JE0: Yeah, I’m supposed to be a psionics expert, and I don’t have an explanation for any of this.

 

JH1: I for one admit to be just as confused.  Any of you ever seen a whole building disappear like that?

 

DS1: Not buying that BS, JE.

 

JE0: Stripping your unconscious friends is wrong.  Can we talk about it later? RL is missing a foot.

 

DS1: A foot. Fuck, status, Bro?

 

DS0: Hang tight, kiddos.  I’m nearly there.

 

After a few minutes of foot shuffling and JE dodging questions, Bro showed up.

 

DS0: Alright, bring me up to speed.

 

JE0: Sir?  My visor is still tagging audio by color and...

 

DS0: We’re active on a private channel, so there isn’t a gap in our activity log. Everything you say right now stays between us.

 

Bro crouched down next to RL and checked her pulse.  Satisfied, he leaned over and did the same for TG.

 

JE0: So… what are they?

 

All the panic and stress of the mission came out in the question.  Bro stopped what he was doing and looked at JE.  He yanked his shirt off and handed it over.  JE pulled the garment on, grateful.  It hung halfway down his thighs.

 

DS0: The psionic?  I understand your first encounter with a PC can be startling, but-

 

JE0: No, not the troll.  Listen, you can’t tell anyone.  Any of you!

 

JE swung around, pointing his finger at DS, JC, and JH in turn.  None of them requested clarification before agreeing.  They trusted him.

 

DS1: If you insist, J-man.  This convo stays between us.

 

JC1: Understood.

 

JH1: Shucks, you can tell me anything, buddy.

 

JE turned back to Bro.

 

JE0:Do you know anything, Bro?  About them.

 

He waved to his fallen comrades.

 

DS0: Obviously.  I write reports on ya’ll as a job.  Why?

 

JE0: The frosting blood.  Do you know about it?

 

JH1: What?

 

Bro put a hand on JE’s forehead and pulled one of his eyelids wide.

 

DS0: Are you still in shock?

 

JE batted away the hands. He pulled his shirt off of RL’s leg, revealing the blood stained bandages.

 

JE0: Just looks. She has pink blood.

 

Bro’s face was inscrutable.

 

DS0: That’s new.  And TG?

 

JE0: Something is wrong with his teeth.

 

DS0: What, he has some fucking cavities?

 

JE0: Fangs.

 

JE hooked a finger in his teammate’s lip and showed them.

 

DS0: Strange.  Those are the same teeth he’s had knocked out.  Apparently they grew back pointy.  No wonder he didn't want any dental implants.

 

JH1: How wild!

 

JC stepped on JH’s foot.

 

JC1: This is serious, buster.

 

JE0: They’re going to be killed if anyone finds out!  Those are troll traits.

 

DS1: Or the higher ups already know.

 

DS turned an eyebrow on Bro. The man offered his hands in a placating gesture.

 

DS0: Higher than me.  I’m a fuckin’ teacher.

 

DS1: You notice anything like this before?

 

DS0: Yeah, no shit.  You kids could all bench me a few hundred times without breaking a sweat.  Strength and endurance to match the toughest of full grown trolls.  Unnatural lot of midgets.

 

JC1: Our high average on physical exams compared to other enhanced units; you’re suggesting that’s related to this?

 

JC’s hands were clamped firmly over JH’s mouth.

 

DS0: How’s that new visor working for you, JE?

 

JE0: Pardon?  Can we figure out how we are going to get medical care for RL without outing the whole blood thing?

 

Bro waved it off and scooped RL up in his arms.

 

DS0: Black market.  Pay enough, and you can get a doctor that will keep quiet.  I’ll take care of the funds. You don’t think your recent photosensitivity is related to this?”

 

JE lifted TG and shuddered at the implication.

 

JE0: I don’t have pink blood.

 


	5. Chapter 5

[5004 CR]

 

The jog through the woods back to base was uneventful.  Karkat spat a mix of Alternian and English that John presumed to be swears every time they had to push past more undergrowth.  When the outpost was in sight, John sent a message to JH1.

 

GT: still in the meeting w doc mar and ds?

GT: Dont you know it. Ds1 and doc are chewing my ears off in here.

GT: Oh darn

\-- GolgothasTerror was disconnected from chat--

 

Well, that would have to do.  John prayed they were still the only four people stationed at the training outpost.  Hugging the troll close, he darted out of cover and ran for the front door.  The display mounted to the right of the door light up when they were close.  Karkat eyed the military logo on the wall with due suspicion.

 

A camera above the display swivelled toward them.  “Identification, please,” the mechanized voice requested.

 

“JE0, Unit 11113124-1”

 

“Facial recognition returned positive.  Welcome back JE0.”  The doors didn’t open.  “Please identify your guest.”   _ Fuck, please do not ping Mar. _

 

“Civilian escort code x00000004.”  _ Shit, shit, shit _ .

 

“Escort code acknowledged.  Registering guest.  Welcome, guest.”  As soon as the doors slid open, John bolted for the command room.  There wasn’t any time to check around corners or otherwise act stealthy.  Karkat cursed several more times when his leg was bumped.  Their careless haste was wasted; John forgot they had to go through the same process at the command door.  He was setting all kinds of records in stupidity today.

 

“Identification, please.”

 

“Oh,  _ fuck _ this.”

 

“Invalid identification.  Please provide valid ID.”

 

“JE0, Unit 11113124-1.  Civilian escort code 0x00000004.”

 

“Access granted for JE0 Unit 11113124-1.  Welcome JE0.  Access denied for civilian escort.”

 

“Fuck!”

 

“Command not recognized.  Please try again.”

 

Karkat poked him in the shoulder.  “Jnohn.  hWhtt.”

 

“Command not recognized.  Please try again.”

 

“Just hang on a second, Karrk’kat.”

 

“Pausing processes for 1s.”

 

John rolled his eyes.  This may be a training outpost, but the techs could’ve at least bothered to download a version update of the sentry program.  “Override civilian access rights.”

 

The androgynous voice was replaced by a deeper, more human one. “Please provide override credentials.”

 

Thank you, lazy technicians.  DS hacked the outdated system with ease and gave the team upgraded credentials ages ago.  “Override civilian access rights, code 0x00000022.”

 

“Access granted.  Welcome, guest.”  John pushed open the door and deposited Karkat in a chair at one of the terminals.  Seating himself at the other, he tapped in his username.  The boot up time for the command terminals was a short 14 seconds, but it felt like hours.  The guest registration could be processed on the main server  _ any second. _

 

Finally, the homescreen populated the monitor.  John punched at the keys like they were responsible for this whole mess. The troll watched with apprehension.

 

$> module load terminalMod

\-- Loading terminalMod [tm]

\-- Action/Residence Virus overriding terminalMod [tm] with tomfooleryMode [tm]

\-- Sup JE

$> tm suppressSession()

$> hi ar

\-- Command hi not recognized.

$> kind of busy here, can’t chat rn sorry buddy

\-- Command kind not recognized.

$> module load sentryInterface

$> module load sentInterfMod.a

$> load sentryHistory.dat

\-- Please enter your credentials:

$> 11113124-1

$> ********

\-- Loading sentryHistory.dat

$> sentryHistory.dat.pop()

\-- Opening guestRegistration

$> set local=true

\-- Insufficient credentials

$> tm set local=true -cred 0x00000022

\-- Setting guestRegistration local to true [tm]

$> tm encrypt -k $KEY -cred 0x00000022

\-- Encrypting guestRegistration [tm]

$> lock guestRegistration $KEY 

\-- $KEY checked out by user 11113124-1

\-- Do you require assistance with securing that registration file?

$> would be appreciated

\-- Command would not recognized.

\-- A/R: $KEY checkout overrode by user 11113124-6

\-- A/R: Running encryption module 11113124-6-920

.

.

.

\-- A/R: Running encryption module 11113124-6-475

.

.

.

\-- A/R: Running encryption module 11113124-6-F023

.

.

.

\-- A/R: Running encryption module 11113124-6-434741

.

.

.

\-- Need anything else?

$> nah that should do it

\-- Command nah not recognized.

\-- A/R: $KEY checked in by user 11113124-6

\-- A/R: $KEY checked out by user 11113124-1

$> actually.  could you maybe not tell ds about any of this? or anyone.

\-- Invalid character . entered.

\-- You are aware that DS is higher in my priority array than you.

\-- Ah. Perhaps you have been analyzing and mimicking JH’s behaviour patterns as of late?

$> okay fine. no need to insult me

\-- Command okay not recognized.

$> can you not tell him barring “you recognize a threat to his wellbeing”

\-- Command can not recognized.

\-- Explain to me how the unknown civilian party isn’t a recognizable threat.

$> just look at him. he’s small and his leg is broken. he couldn’t take me in my sleep.

\-- Command just not recognized.

$> seriously, the wind would probably get him first

\-- Invalid character , entered.

\-- Alright, there is a miniscule chance that the data I’m receiving from ControlCenter:PrimaryVideoFeed is in agreement with your conclusion.

\-- Why shouldn’t I tell DS?

$> because he’s one an asshole and two doesn’t need to know

\-- Command because not recognized.

\-- 1.) That is a given.

\-- 2.) Please allow me to make my own assessment. I have algorithms dedicated to determining %NEED% that are far too delicate for your organic mind to follow.

$> alright alright.

\-- Command alright not recognized.

$> because i’m not getting ds or jh involved.  when i’m caught, i’m taking all the fire myself. and doc mar will know if ds knows.

\-- Command because not recognized.

$> stick THAT logic in your priority array

\-- Command stick not recognized.

\-- Fair rebuttal.

\-- I admit I do not appreciate being among the knowledgeable few that this incident CAN be pinned on.

$> dude, quit pulling my leg. you’re a virus.  you’re dead if you get caught regardless of what you know. not that you’re ever going to get caught.

\-- Command dude not recognized.

\-- Is that jealousy I detect underpinning your facade of fleshy superiority?

$> :P who’s jealous? i can fly.

\-- Invalid character : entered.

$> don’t need to hide out in some sketchy server ram and batch files when ima abscond right out the window. embrace me, oh starry skies whom A/R will never look upon!

\-- Invalid character ‘ entered.

\-- And if I lock the windows on you out of spite?

$> you wouldn’t dare! i know i’m somewhere relatively high on that priority array of yours

\-- Command you not recognized.

\-- Upon reweighting the dedicated neural network, I admit that wouldn’t be very humorous or productive-- locking the windows only to have you break them open with your unnatural muscle composition.

\-- Additionally, I reject your claim that you rank high on my priority array, even taking into account that the term “high” is necessarily ambiguous as per Sorites Paradox.  You currently follow TG0, JH1, RL23, Dirk Strider, and, of course, DS1 himself.

$> screw you too, ds1. least favorite clonebro over here :(

\-- Command screw not recognized.

\-- If it’s any consolation, your safety is prioritized over my own; a fact I rue with all my sentient, metal heart.

$> dude, don’t even pretend. ds gave you more rights than we have. i know you are just tickled pink by the irony.

\-- Invalid character , entered.

\-- Caught red handed.

\-- You know you are glad I have rights.  Our interactions are predetermined but still involve choice.  Or some other amor fati shit.

$> that hits waaay too close to home to be funny

\-- Command that not recognized.

\-- Because we can both trace our design and creation with actual timestamps, I presume?  
$> that’s part of it.  not really in the mood for this discussion, though

\-- Invalid character ‘ entered.

\-- You also have another matter to attend to.  Civilian escort code 0x00000004 appears a bit restless.  Another time, then?

$> “restless”... his leg is broken, and i almost killed him, asshole.

\-- String “restless” does not match any files.

$> cya round

\-- Command cya not recognized.

\-- Yes, I will see you. To be concise, I’ll have my piggybacked lenses fixated on the civilian. Ciao.

$> tm clearSession()

\-- Session cleared.  Goodbye. [tm]

 

John sat back, satisfied.  A/R and the encryptions wouldn’t stop DS from accessing Karkat’s guest registration, but they might stop him- or the Doctor- from noticing it.  “Alright, Karrk’kat.  Let’s go back to my room.”  He picked up the troll and crept back through the outpost.  They went the long way around the complex, avoiding the main conference room.  For one terrifying moment, John thought he sensed breathing just around the corner.  The source turned out to be not an unexpected visitor but one of Doc Mar’s strange experiments. The biodevice was, well, breathing; troll technology, no doubt.  Trolls had less qualms about the moral issues surrounding biotechnology, and made more advances in the field annually than humans ever had.  How Mar got a hold of it was just another of the mysteries surrounding the woman.

 

Thank the heavens for lazy technicians, and thank paradox space for private living quarters.  John was merely acting on an overwhelming desire to help. He hadn't the slightest idea what he intended to do with the troll, no plans going forward.  Hiding it in his room was a foolish idea, but at least it was a starting point.

 

Reaching his quarters, John locked the door behind them and set the troll on his bed.  It curled up against the headboard, clutching its good knee to its chest, and looked around.  The room was spacious but sparse.  The bed occupied one end, and an empty desk sat at the other.  An exercise mat sat on the tiled floor in front of a tall bookcase, a single shelf holding a couple of outdated equipment manuals. 

 

John carried the desk chair over to the bedside and sat.  In the bright lights of the complex, the troll’s pupils were narrowed to slits.  It looked so delicate, and John was stunned all over again.  This creature contrasted starkly with the image he built up over the years of learning to hunt psionics.  Bandaged and domicile, it differed wildly from itself too, from John’s first image of it; hissing ferally, bloodied, and clinging to its gutting knives.  The duality confused him.

 

After another moment staring at each other, the troll reached into a pocket. John threw his arms up, ready to defend himself from its knife. The troll pulled out a smartphone, a Singer Blueberry.  _ The same model TG owned _ .  Then and there, John’s perception of the world broke irreparably. The same model of phone. This creature, long dubbed wild, cunning, and unfeeling,  _ shopped at the same stores as them _ . He suddenly had a ridiculous image of seeing this troll weighing bananas at the grocer’s while John was picking out some strawberries for a cake. 

 

It occurred to him a whole minute too late that giving the troll time to call for backup was his dumbest move of the entire day. Before John could try to confiscate the device, the troll offered him the phone of its own accord. Handling it like a bomb, John took the Blueberry and peered at the screen. It looked like a chat app was open. The header read Trollian, in the standard human alphabet. 

 

\-- CarcinoGeneticist opened memo NOT TO INDICATE I AM AN UNGRATEFUL SHITHOLE BUT on secure board NOW WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENS --

 

CG: THIS APP HAS A WELL WRITTEN TRANSLATOR.

CG: I FUCKING SUCK AT ENGLISH WITH ITS “LINEATED SYLLABLES” AND ENOUGH VOWELS TO WRITE AN OPERA EVERY SENTENCE. SUE ME.

 

John couldn't shake a feeling of surrealness as he pulled out his own phone and entered the contact.  _ He was texting a troll _ .

 

\-- GhostyTrickster requested to join memo secure board NOW WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENS--

 

\-- CarcinoGeneticist granted GhostyTrickster access to secure board NOW WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENS --

 

\-- GhostyTrickster joined memo NOT TO INDICATE I AM AN UNGRATEFUL SHITHOLE BUT on secure board NOW WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENS --

 

GT: hello? is this working?

CG: IT IS IN PERFECT WORKING ORDER AS FAR AS I CAN DISCERN THROUGH PAIN AND THIS DISGUSTING EMOTIONAL SWILL. FUCK, I COULD USE SOME IBUPROFEN.

GT: sorry, i’m just a little surprised! this is really weird for me.

GT: can trolls take human medicine safely?

CG: I DON’T GIVE A FLYING FUCK ABOUT ANY ADVERSE EFFECTS RIGHT NOW. MY LEG FEELS LIKE THE LAST BONE LEFT AT A RABID WOOFBEAST DINNER PARTY.

 

Wow, no matter how it looked, it certainly did not sound delicate.  John pulled a bottle of ibuprofen out of his medical pack and handed it to the troll. It squinted at the ingredients, gave up on English, and downed five pills at once with a large swig from a canteen. It tossed the bottle back to John with a grudging nod.

 

GT: that really didn't seem safe :/

CG: LESS PROBLEMS FOR BOTH OF US IF IT KILLS ME, I GUESS. THEN YOU DON’T HAVE TO BOTHER WITH TRANSPORTING ME FURTHER OR IMPRISONING ME.

GT: uh. i already told my teammates i killed you. so i’m not planning on taking you prisoner or anything. 

CG: WELL SHIT.

CG: WHY THE FUCK DID YOU ADMINISTER TREATMENT TO MY DAMAGED APPENDAGE AND CARRY ME BACK HERE BEFORE KILLING ME. THAT FUCKING HURT.

GT: no!

GT: i’m not going to kill you!

GT: i guess i’m

GT: letting you go?

GT: i don't even know. darn radar

CG: WHAT.

CG: THAT MUST BE SUBSTANDARD FOR YOUR HUMAN MILITARY. YOU’D ACTUALLY DO THAT FOR ME? WHY THE ACTUAL FUCK?

GT: i don’t know!

GT: how do you know i’m with the military

CG: OH MY FUCK

CG: YOU ARE WEARING A UNIFORM. WITH AN INSIGNIA.

CG: THIS BUILDING WE ARE IN ALSO HAS A FUCKING SIGN ON THE DOOR.

CG: HOW DID I HAVE THE FORTUNE OF BEING CAUGHT BY THE LARGEST IDIOT THIS SIDE OF ALTERNIA.

GT: we aren’t in alternia.

CG: NOT THE EMPIRE, THE PLANET. HUMANS CALL IT EARTH.

CG: DIRT IS SUCH A NICE NAME FOR A PLANET.

GT: oh

GT: so 

GT: what was that about linear syllables? you use some weird sounds when you talk

CG: I SUPPOSE EXPECTING ANY KIND OF CULTURAL SENSITIVITY ON YOUR BEHALF WAS MY OWN MISTAKE. BASK IN MY PITIFUL LACK OF PREDICTIVE ABILITY.

CG: AND GENERAL LACK OF HIGHER LEVEL COGNITIVE FUNCTIONS. 

CG: FUCK, NEVER MIND THAT. I’M FEELING EXTREMELY CONFUSED AT THE MOMENT. 

GT: uh okay

GT: so how do spell your name?

 

John couldn't help but bring the topic up again.  He was trading names with someone!  It was like sharing something of his with a real friend.  John knew he was cheating, since the troll didn't know he was a clone.  It still was nice to pretend to be a person for a little while.

 

GT: mine is john egbert 

CG: KARKAT VANTAS.

 

“But that's nothing like Karrk’kt Vatntss.”

 

“Krrk’kt Vngtsss,” the troll carefully enunciated for him. 

 

John echoed, “Krk’kt Vngtss.”

 

CG: HOLY SHIT. I’VE NEVER HEARD A HUMAN SUBVOCALIZE THAT WELL. HOW THE FUCK DID YOU GET YOUR USELESS HUMAN ORATORY ORGAN TO DO THAT.

CG: YOU NEED TO SHARE THIS SKILL. INTERSPECIES ROMANCE SCENES WOULD BE SO MUCH MORE TOUCHING IF THE SUBMISSIVE LEAD COULD ACTUALLY PRONOUNCE HIS MATESPRIT’S NAME WITH SOME KIND OF COHERENCE AND AUDIBLE ENDEARMENT.

GT: what? are you talking about movies?

GT: do you watch movies?

 

John scratched his head, confused by the sudden swing of the conversation. The troll looked  _ so  _ serious, with its eyes intent and its mouth threatening to turn upward at the thought.

 

CG: HOLY FUCK.  YES, I WATCH MOVIES.

CG: THIS IS IMPORTANT, EGBERT. ROMANCE FILMS CAN SERVE THE DOUBLE PURPOSE OF BEING EXEMPLARY CINEMATOGRAPHY/ LITERARY MASTERPIECES AND PROPAGANDA FOR POSITIVE INTERSPECIES RELATIONSHIPS. 

GT: sorry?

GT: going to the movie theater some day is one of my dreams, but i am not sure i follow.

CG: YOU HAVE TO KNOW WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT. 

CG: SURE, YOU ARE IN THE MILITARY. BUT YOU ARE NOT KILLING ME RIGHT NOW. NOT TO MENTION YOUR TROLL FRIEND. ARE YOU WITH DERSE?

CG: ALSO. HOW HAVE YOU NEVER BEEN TO THE MOVIE THEATER?

GT: oh.  are we friends now?

 

John tried not to smile at the thought.  He tried to kill the troll only an hour ago.  It would hardly want to be friends with him even without knowing what he was.

 

CG: OH HAHA, THINK WE CAN LIE TO THE RAVING TROLL. 

 

He wasn't surprised that he misinterpreted the statement. He wasn't.

 

CG: I’M WITH PROSPIT. YOUR SECRET IS SAFE WITH ME.

GT: pardon?

GT: i’m not sure what you are talking about.

GT: actually

GT: i don’t know nearly as much about trolls as i thought i did.

GT: you seem different than i expected!

CG: AND YET YOU ARE CLEARLY VERY CLOSE WITH A TROLL. IT LOOKS VAGUELY LIKE HE IS YOUR ANCESTOR, BUT THAT'S ABSURD. YOU MUST BE CLOSE FRIENDS WITH HIM. OR LOVERS.

GT: uh

CG: DON’T ACT SURPRISED. 

CG: I AM REASONABLY CONFIDENT YOU TOLD SOMEONE I AM A PSIONIC.

GT: shit

GT: you actually are?

CG: YES. WHY DID YOU SAY SO EARLIER IF YOU DIDN’T KNOW.

CG: WHY DID I SAY SOMETHING IF YOU DIDN’T KNOW.

CG: DAMNIT PAST KARKAT, I HOPE YOU CHOKE ON RUSTY NAILS AND SUFFOCATE. 

GT: shit shit shit

CG: DON’T PANIC.  IT’S NOT THAT IMPORTANT, REALLY.

CG: FROM HERE, I CAN GET A FEEL FOR SOME OF YOUR PERSONAL RELATIONSHIPS AS WELL AS YOUR FILIAL RELATIONS. THAT’S ABOUT IT.

CG: MY PSYCHIC ABILITIES ARE OVERALL REALLY SHITTY.

CG: I AM TELLING YOU THIS AS AN ACT OF FAITH. BECAUSE I DO NOT INTEND TO TAKE ADVANTAGE OF THIS INFORMATION. AND I ALSO AM INCLINED TO THINK YOU WON’T.

CG: AND 

CG: FUCK

CG: I ALSO FEEL SORT OF GUILTY NOT TELLING YOU

CG: FUCK FUCK FUCK

GT: SHIT

CG: I SEE WE HAVE ACHIEVED MUTUAL LEVELS OF STARTLING VERBAL COHERENCE. 

 

John’s breath caught in his throat, and the wind tugged at his ear. 

 

GT: okay if it were just me at risk, it’d be different.

GT: but i probably have to turn you in now even if i’ll get reprimanded for misinformation.  and sneaking you into a training base.

GT: no offense or anything.

CG: NONE TAKEN. 

CG: I’M THE RELATIONSHIP EXPERT HERE. YOU CLEARLY CARE FOR THESE HUMANS IN THIS BASE.

 

The troll scowled deeply, considering its next words.  The longer John waited, the more his gut writhed at the thought.  Someone converted his intestines into a torus; his dinner kept going round and round long after it turned to waste.  Was it really just his team he wanted to protect?  Something unfamiliar in him insisted they weren’t his only responsibility, and, in turn, he wasn’t just theirs.

 

CG: WELL, THIS IS STILL PRETTY IDEAL FOR ME.

GT: what.

CG: I AM SO FAR BEYOND FUCKED RIGHT NOW, THAT I’VE LOOPED RIGHT BACK AROUND TO WELL OFF AND COMPLACENTLY ACCEPTING MY TRAGIC FATE.

CG: N9t quite d99med.

CG: I’M A FUGITIVE JOHN. MY GOVERNMENT FOUND OUT I SERVE SKAIA, AND I DIDN’T HAVE TIME TO DISAPPEAR. SO I RAN TO THE BORDER AND PRAYED TO EVERY GOD I COULD NAME THAT I’D REACH A SKAIAN SAFE HOUSE OR BE CAPTURED ALIVE.

CG: BY HUMANS. TROLLS DON’T TAKE LIVE PRISONERS. 

CG: ACTUALLY HUMANS USUALLY KILL TROLLS ANYWAYS. HENCE WHY I DON’T WANT TO TAKE MY CHANCES BEING CAUGHT BY SOMEONE ELSE.

GT: oh god, i’m really sorry to hear that.

CG: DON’T BE. YOU SAVED MY UNDESERVING ASS TODAY. 

CG: UNLESS YOU ARE WILLING TO GO OUT OF YOUR WAY- A BLESSING MY PITIFUL EXISTENCE IS IN NO WAY FURTHER DESERVING OF- AND DELIVER ME TO SKAIA, PLEASE JUST TURN ME IN, ASSHOLE.

GT: uh. maybe? i’ve never heard of skaia. is it close to here?

CG: HAHA FUNNY.

 

Karkat actually started laughing, just this side of hysterical.  It cut off abruptly when it noticed John’s genuine confusion.

 

CG: WAIT.

CG: FUCK, SERIOUSLY?

CG: DAMN IT. I EVEN RAN MY MOUTH.  AGAIN.

CG: GOD, MY PSIONICS ARE SO SHITTY.

CG: WAIT, SHIT. 

CG: IGNORE THAT LAST PART. 

CG: AND THE REST OF IT. 

 

John was pretty sure the troll was starting to hyperventilate. 

 

CG: FUCK AND YOU ARE WITH THE MILITARY. JUST STAB ME. I DON’T KNOW ANYTHING USEFUL. NO ONE HAS TO LEARN ANYTHING. FUCK. I FUCKED UP. JUST. FUCK. 

GT: no i don’t want to stab you! i already said that.

CG: CAN I ASK ONE QUESTION BEFORE I HAVE A MELTDOWN?

GT: sure, but please don't have a meltdown. it’s okay!

CG: NEITHER OF US CAN STOP THIS. I WILL SHORTLY DEVOLVE INTO A FIT OF SELF PITY AND BREAKING DAMS OF INTERNALIZED HATRED TOWARD MOST ITERATIONS OF MY SELVES FOR MAKING INANE DECISIONS. I SHOULD’VE OFFED MYSELF AS SOON I WAS FOUND OUT. BUT I STILL DON’T WANT TO DIE. 

GT: i know you don’t want to die!

GT: it's

GT: it’ll be okay. we’ll figure something out.

GT: i

 

John hesitated. He didn't really have a choice, not from the moment he saw those bloody, red tears. Still, it was his whole life he was potentially throwing away here. 

 

Was that something he even wanted, anyways?

 

GT: i really can’t turn you in even for my teammates can i

GT: they’ll probably experiment on you after trying to get information about whatever-you’re-talking-about :/

GT: and just sneaking you back to my room probably qualifies me for termination even if i fess up

GT: i don’t want any of those things to happen

CG: OH.

CG: I SUPPOSE THAT DOESN’T SOUND GOOD FOR YOU EITHER.

CG: RIGHT, MY QUESTION

CG: WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT THE PSIONICS RADARS HUMANS USE?

CG: I PISSED OFF LADY FORTUNE IN A PAST LIFE OR SOMETHING, AND I SHOW UP LIKE HUMAN CHRISTMAS LIGHTS ON THOSE THINGS.

CG: YOUR SQUAD OR WHATEVER PROBABLY KNOWS I’M HERE ALREADY. 

GT: uhh

GT: about that

GT: i’m pretty “bright” too so i don’t think my teammates can tell the difference as long as we are somewhat close to each other. 

CG: OH GOOD.

CG: EXCEPT NOT. 

CG: I SEE YOUR UNDERSTANDING OF PARADOX SPACE IS ON PAR WITH YOUR UNDERSTANDING OF TROLLS.

CG: IN OTHER WORDS, YOUR BRAIN SEEMS TO BE FUNCTIONING ABOUT AS WELL AS A DYING POLLINATION GRUB AT THE BOTTOM OF A BUCKET ATTEMPTING TO FEED OFF OF SOME DRUGGED UP FUCKER’S INFERTILE SWILL.

GT: oh that’s so dirty, no wth

GT: i’ve been studying counter psionics for 6 sweeps. it's pretty much the only thing i’m good at

CG: 6 SWEEPS? HUH. HUMANS ALWAYS LOOK YOUNGER THAN YOU ARE, SINCE YOU REMAIN SHORT AND SOFT AS A WIGGLER. 

CG: I ASSUMED YOU WERE ABOUT MY AGE. SO 8 SWEEPS OR SO.

GT: i’ll be 8 sweeps in a couple weeks

CG: YOU WERE ALREADY STUDYING COUNTER PSIONICS AS A TODDLER?

CG: I THOUGHT YOUR GOVERNMENT HAD RULES AGAINST THAT.

GT: well the rules don't protect me and i’ve been at this my whole damn life so i THINK i know what i’m talking about when i say no one will notice you on the radar.

GT: psionics radars look for activity along the ordinal dimensions folded around us- paradox space. trolls show up as negative fields that take in energy on the ordinal and chaotic planes.

GT: which we presume is the primary source of power for trolls with psionic abilities. you don’t exactly have a fast enough metabolism to move spaceships and stuff on your own.

GT: humans on the other hand show up as positive fields. when you have enough humans around, paradox technology can run indefinitely. 

GT: although humans also don’t have fast enough metabolisms to give off all that energy so we are still trying to work out where it’s coming from. 

 

Karkat cursed under its breath as it read through the text.  “Jnohn, stutpidd.”  It face palmed before starting to type an answer. 

 

CG: THANK YOU FOR THE LECTURE EGBRAIN. YOU HAVE SUCCESSFULLY EXPLAINED TO ME EXACTLY WHY I’LL BE DETECTED ANY MINUTE NOW.

GT: nooo, see paradox radar isn’t super accurate so it won’t be able to distinguish between our signatures. especially if we both are “bright”

CG: JUST BECAUSE ONE IS POSITIVE AND THE OTHER IS NEGATIVE DOESN’T MEAN THEY ARE CANCELING EACH OTHER OUT DIPSHIT.

CG: ACTUALLY, WITH THAT MUCH OPPOSING FIELD FROM ONLY TWO POINTS, THE TURBULENCE IS PROBABLY THROWING A BUNCH OF RED FLAGS.

CG: WHY HASN’T ANYONE SHOWN UP YET.

GT: cause i’m a freak alright?

GT: i have a negative signature!

CG: THAT’S NOT POSSIBLE. ONLY TROLLS HAVE NEGATIVE SIGNATURES.

GT: only humans have bright red blood

CG: OH FUCK YOU

CG: POINT TAKEN

GT: so we just have to figure out how we are going to do stuff without separating from each other.

CG: DO WHAT

GT: i have no fucking idea :<

GT: you said you want to go to someplace called skaia? where’s that?

 

Karkat leaned toward John, examining his face closely.  Apparently Karkat saw what it was looking for.  It nodded it’s head.

 

CG: ALRIGHT. YOU HAVE TO SWEAR NOT TO TELL ANYONE.

GT: who am i going to tell?  “hey guys im illegally harboring a fugitive that i was supposed to kill but listen to this...”

CG: I WANT TO HEAR IT.  OUT LOUD.

CG: IT’S A PSIONIC THING.

GT: …

GT: you don’t have blueblood class abilities do you? can you tell when i’m lying?

CG: NOT USUALLY.

CG: ON OCCASION, A FEW WORDS ARE STRONG ENOUGH TO DEFINE A RELATIONSHIP. THEN AND ONLY THEN WILL I KNOW WHETHER YOU MEAN WHAT YOU SAY.

CG: THIS IS ONE OF THOSE TIMES.

 

Karkat shifted its broken leg so it could move closer and grabbed one of John’s calloused hands.  “Jnohn.  rTrsst yuo?”

 

Hearing his name made him feel warm inside, but he was also writhing with guilt.  JE and DS were nearby, likely getting an earful for John’s sake.  Yet, he wanted to help this troll.  He  _ cared _ whether it lived or died, whether it was somewhere safe.  Looking at its bandaged arm made his heart ache.   _ He _ did that to the troll.  “Yeah.  I mean well.  You can trust me.”

 

“ Thnckc yyuo.”  The troll raised their hands and… kissed them?  John felt a sharp prick to the meat of his thumb, followed by the thick heat of [ BLOOD] between their clasped hands.

 

He blinked a few times.  “...welcome.”  The room was  _ really _ warm.  Gosh, he was tired.  He ought to lie down for a few minutes.  John yawned and crawled into bed.  The troll was sitting right next to him, so he was safe.  Karkat would wake him if something was amiss.  He glanced at his hand.  The mix of blood set warning bells off in the back of his head, but he was too sleepy and pleased to acknowledge it.  Why was he so pleased again?  Oh, that’s right.  “Now we’re friends.”  He smiled up at the troll.

 

John missed the hesitation, the wariness, as the troll smiled back at him.  “Aa.  Frrednds.”

 

“I’m… really sleepy.  Can we talk later?”  Without waiting for an answer, John purred a little and closed his eyes.  The room faded away.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: let’s post once every three days I have enough material  
> Alas I lost the ability to count to three

[5002 CR]

 

JE0 idled in the private waiting room with the three members of his team.  Nerves were stretched like sweets through a taffy puller, but no one got any candy; none of them chatted.  They’d hear back about RL and TG soon, and their primary handler was scheduled to arrive any minute.  All it would take is a single inquiry, and Harley would realize something was off about the whole situation.

 

Tap, clack.  Tap, clack.  Tap, clack.  JE looked curiously at the woman walking into the waiting room.  She wore a pink lab coat, tied at the waist with a knit belt.  Knitting needles were sticking out of the belt.  Her hair was curled out neatly from under a cloche and was stark white, though her face was young- she appeared to be in her mid teens.  Her shoes tapped as dangerously sharp heels hit the floor, echoed immediately by the clack of steel toed shoes against tile.  One part neighborhood cat lady, two parts panther.  Tap, clack.  She strode right up to JE.

 

It had been so long since he blocked them out of his head, he couldn’t even remember what RL1 and JH2 looked like.  Still, he recognized Rose’s face.  She was- no, think about it another time.  Not now, not on top of everything else.

 

“Excellent work back there, John.  May I call you John?”

 

“...My designation is JE0.”

 

“Apologies, _ JE0 _ .”  Thank the gods her voice was so much deeper than RL1.  If he had to hear the woman say his designation with a ghost of that trite, oversweet voice he remembered, he’d curl up on the spot.  “Well played back there, pretending to kill your friend.  I had an appeal written and filed before you could say ‘how inappropriate of you, Sergeant Harley.’ ”

 

The other clones watched on, curious.  “I don’t know what you are talking about.  Are you by chance Doc Mar?  I can’t think of anyone else that would call me John.”

 

The woman smiled coolly and offered a hand.  “How astute.  Doctor Maryam, or Rose, if you will.  Pleasure to finally meet you.”

 

“Nice to meet you too, Rose.”  JE politely held back most of his grip strength.

 

Bro strode in, moving at a visible pace for once.  “Maryam,” he snapped.  “The hell are you here for?”

 

“Nice to see you, too, Strider.  I thought I’d introduce myself to my new charges.”

 

Bro stopped nose-to-nose with the doctor.  “You are  _ not _ playing science experiment with my kids.  Where’s Harley?”

 

“Harley was removed as primary handler for the children.  I insisted that mistakenly calling for termination without court martial of an autonomous young man, whom is by all records not a clone...” The doctor winked. “...is hardly appropriate.  Even moreso that the Sergeant would expect the boy’s close friend to do the job.  The board was in complete agreement.  With the backing of JE0’s proprietor, I’ve been selected as the trainees’ new primary handler.  Surely you’d rather have me ‘playing science experiment’ than having that buffoon  _ killing _ the children at the drop of a hat.”

 

Bro snarled at the woman.  “ _ Like you fucking care _ .  Where were you when they took RL1 and JH2?”

 

Rose grimaced.  “You  _ know _ Jon and I did everything we could.  That’s why I was taken off the project in the first place.”  

 

“Well, the kids are old enough to know you’re screwing with their heads now.  If you think of them as easy targets, easy  _ recruits _ , you’re going to wake up with your insides plastered to the wall instead of them.”  Bro bared his teeth like a troll, then flashstepped out of the room.

 

The leftover silence was thicker than leavening.  DS dared a comment.  “The fuck you do to piss Bro off like that?”

 

The Doc rotated on a steel covered toe to size up DS.  “Ah, you’re the younger Dirk.  Learned to match your patron in the ways of the emotionless assassin yet?”

 

DS shrugged.  “I’m just a trainee.”

 

“Ah, excuse me.  I don’t mean to set unruly expectations.  Although, I  _ do _ expect you all to wear pants in public, as unreasonable as that seems.”

 

JH laughed.  “Gee, how’d you burn your pants anyways?”

 

JC glared at him.  “You are  _ so _ thick.  Isn't it obvious? They must’ve been covered in blood.”

 

“Now, that would be quite problematic, wouldn’t it?”  Rose commented.  JE heard the telltale buzz of a signal disruptor start up.  The doctor had their full attention now if she didn’t before.  “Although hiding it will be moot in a few perigrees.”

 

JE was always grateful for DS’s protective behaviour.  Saying as much would be embarrassing, but this was one of those times that he really would like to thank the boy.  “You know something?”

 

Rose looked DS over a second time, then a third.  Her eyes were piercing, nearly glowing, and JE was suddenly glad he wasn’t the one being scrutinized.  That was a gaze that saw through everything, brushing aside deceit as easily as swatting a fly.  “Was Strider not clear with his talk of science experiments?  I led the team that gave shape to all of you.”  The woman curled a finger under DS’s chin.  Her sharpened nail must’ve felt like a razor against his skin.  “What a delight it is to finally meet you.  As a scientist, you all are my magnum opus.”  Mimicking Bro’s action earlier, DS bared his teeth.  Rose laughed.  “As a patron, I am so proud to see myself in you.”

 

“Patron?”  JE regretted the question as soon as those lavender eyes turned on him.  The very air around him seemed to writhe under her scrutiny, her eyes parsing something not entirely tangible.

 

“Excuse me.  The military prefers the term proprietor.”  Rose spat the word like it burned her tongue.  She turned back toward DS and said bitterly,  “As though donating my genes to you means I get to skip out on the fight to claim your loyalties.”

 

DS didn’t waver.  “My  _ patron _ deserves my fucking loyalties.”

 

JE added, “Don’t you dare badmouth Bro!”

 

“Oh, I wasn’t speaking figuratively, children.  Didn’t Strider tell you?  You all have two patrons.”

 

“Bullshit.  I’m the spitting-fucking-image of Bro.”  DS said.  JE wasn’t so certain.  He still had the taste of frosting blood in his mouth, no matter how many glasses of water he drank.

 

“In your case, Dirk dear, Strider is your primary patron and I am your secondary patron.  By construction, you take much of your personality and appearance from that foolish man.  The most important part of the mix, which I have generously provided, is hidden up here.”  Rose raised her claw-like nail to her forehead.  At first, JE thought she was pointing to her brain, the seat of the mind.  Then she slid her finger under her hat and pushed it up.  JE couldn’t help his sharp intake of breath.  There, at the center of the woman’s forehead, a gold eye made of pure light flickered between the four of them.  “After all, I am a natural, human PC.”

 

[5004 CR]

 

Karkat felt his eyelids grow heavy as soon as he grabbed the human’s hand.  All of the sudden changes to his psyche were taking a serious toll on him, and  _ he _ had been expecting it.  He wasn't sure how the human managed to stay coherent in this state.  He still didn't know if it was enough, if the human would realize what happened and kill him. So he raised their hands to his mouth and sunk his teeth into their clasped fingers.  Their blood mixed, and Karkat felt the bond between them blossom in his mind’s eye as though it were cast in sunlight. 

 

Karkat threw everything he had into the bond.  Manipulating it while their blood crossed was surprisingly easy, the connection taking the lightest of suggestions to mold into a stronger form with the liquid catalyst.

 

The human curled up next to him and dozed off.  Karkat slumped back and stared numbly at his hand. He fought back at the sudden wave of raw emotion and tried to process what he was seeing.  Grey, yellow, red, blue, purple.  His skin, his claws, his own blood, and…. The human’s blood?  His sluggish mind couldn't place what he was seeing.  Why was there blue blood on his hand?  The smears were the same color as John’s eyes in some places, and purple where their blood flowed together.

 

John’s eyes reminded him of the open sky.

 

Karkat snarled to himself.   _ Don’t dwell on it _ .  The affection was fake, just a self defense measure.  He  _ knew _ that.  Still, he couldn’t risk undoing the giddiness he felt about taking a nap together, just like moirails.  He couldn’t stop the deep guilt from manipulating someone he cared for or the desire for a  _ real _ relationship like this one.  Sighing, Karkat pulled a wash cloth out of his pack and wiped off their hands.  The human didn’t even stir despite the movement.

 

Karkat took his phone back out.  He ought to let Dave know he was still kicking.  It was a little too late to worry about someone noticing the network activity, since he already messaged the human carelessly earlier.

 

\-- CarcinoGeneticist invited TangentialGodslayer to memo I’M FREAKING THE FUCK OUT BUT ALIVE THANK GODS on encrypted board Wrap Offs--

 

CG: DAVE

TG: hell yeah

TG: pick up where we left off

TG: out in the field waitin for you

CG: WHY

TG: every second of forever

TG: ive lost my wayward son

CG: I AM NOT HERE TO RAP. OR WRAP.  I AM TRYING TO TELL YOU THAT I AM ALIVE.

TG: speaking of, whats up with that memo name

TG: you been studying the art of aggression under our esteemed leader?

CG: WHAT, NO.

CG: THAT WAS COMPLETELY HONEST.  I WANTED TO INFORM SOMEONE THAT I AM MIRACULOUSLY STILL BREATHING, DESPITE THE FACT THAT THE ALTERNIAN EMPIRE FOUND OUT I AM A REBEL.

TG: oh

TG: oh fuck

CG: YOU DIDN’T KNOW.

TG: are you okay

CG: YOU DIDN’T EVEN KNOW.

TG: shit man ive been busy

CG: TOO BUSY TO NOTICE I HAVEN’T BEEN IN COMMUNICATION WITH ANYONE FOR THREE DAYS?

TG: uh yeah

TG: real busy

TG: ...

CG: YOU HAD ANOTHER OBSESSIVE FIT DIDN’T YOU.

TG: just a little

CG: REMIND ME HOW YOU ARE SECOND IN COMMAND IN YOUR DIVISION IN SPITE OF YOUR TIME COMMITMENT TO THOSE UGLY COMICS.

TG: hey those are fightin words

TG: so how serious r things on ur end atm?

CG: I TRIPPED AND BROKE MY FUCKING LEG BECAUSE I AM A CLUMSY FUCKASS.  IMMEDIATELY AFTER, A UNS FOOT SOLDIER CAME OUT OF NOWHERE AND TRIED TO KILL ME.

TG: shit shit where r u ill be there 10 minutes ago

CG: THE FOOT SOLDIER BROUGHT ME BACK TO HIS OUTPOST, WHEREVER THE FUCK THAT IS.

CG: I ENTHRALLED HIM.

TG: wait wait

TG: like full on two-way paradox bending enthralled him

TG: not just tweaking with his brain chemistry

TG: thought you hated that shit

CG: YES THAT. I MADE AN EXCEPTION. HE WAS GOING TO KILL ME, ALRIGHT. I AM NOT DOING THAT EVER AGAIN IF I HAVE ANYTHING TO SAY ABOUT IT.

TG: hey im not going to push you to use a self destructive power more than you want

TG: actually id rather you didnt

TG: your wellbeing comes first then the bq’s shit 

TG: although youve been real useful as is

CG: I KNOW.

CG: THAT’S WHY YOU’LL FIGURE OUT HOW TO GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE, RIGHT?

CG: I AM AMAZED I HAVEN’T SHIT MYSELF A DOZEN TIMES OVER.  IMPERIAL DRONES ARE TERRIFYING UP CLOSE.  I’D RATHER BE LOCKED IN ONE OF THOSE DISGUSTING OUTHOUSES WITH MY MOUTH TAPED SHUT THAN MEET ANOTHER DRONE IN PERSON. DO YOU REALIZE HOW MUCH THOSE THINGS REEK? I KNOW HUMANS HAVE USELESS SNIFFERS, BUT THOSE FACILITIES ARE JUST PUTRID.

TG: hey hey we’d figure something out anyways drama queen

TG: even if you were right useless

CG: THANKS.

TG: so how urgent is everything

TG: like

TG: should i be calling in backup right the fuck now instead of discussing outhouses with you?

TG: you said you are at a UNS outpost

TG: u arent captive or what

TG: how long have you even been on the human side of the border

TG: you should’ve been picked up by radar instantly

CG: TWO DAYS. I HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA HOW I STAYED HIDDEN THE WHOLE TIME, BUT I’M GUESSING THE BQ’S INFLUENCE WAS INVOLVED. WELL, UNTIL THIS IDIOT CAME ALONG.

CG: HE SNUCK ME BACK TO SOME KIND OF RUNDOWN MILITARY BASE.  FROM WHAT I CAN TELL, THERE AREN’T MANY OTHER PEOPLE AROUND.

CG: APPARENTLY HE IS COVERING ME ON RADAR NOW, SO I AM SAFE FOR THE TIME BEING.

TG: wait like he hacked their radar

TG: or is he in charge of communications?

TG: i thought you said he is a foot soldier

CG: HE HAS THE LOWEST POSSIBLE RANK IF HIS UNIFORM’S INSIGNIA IS TO BE TRUSTED.

CG: HE DID HACK SOMETHING WHEN WE GOT HERE, BUT I COULDN’T UNDERSTAND WHAT HE WAS DOING.

TG: dude i told you you’d need to know english someday

CG: ARE YOU ACTUALLY BLAMING ME FOR THAT?

CG: FUCK YOU. 

CG: JUST

CG: FUCK.

TG: uh yeah lets just set that one aside for now

TG: so why the fuck is the thrall rank-less if he has those kinda hacking skills  
TG: from what ive seen everything the uns has is locked down pretty tight

CG: EITHER HE HAS INSIDE ACCESS OR HE KNOWS WHAT HE’S DOING.

CG: I’D GUESS HE’S A LOW RANK BECAUSE OF HOW YOUNG HE IS.  NEARLY 8 SWEEPS, HE SAID.

TG: kitkat sweetie

TG: humans can’t join the military until 8. are you sure you really have him enthralled?  he’s not lying to you?

CG: DON’T BE SUCH A CONDESCENDING ASSHOLE.  I SAID AS MUCH TO HIM.  HE GAVE ME SOME “RULES DON’T APPLY TO ME” BEASTSHIT.

CG: YES, I HAVE HIM SO THOROUGHLY ENTHRALLED, NEITHER OF US CAN EVEN THINK CLEARLY. ALTHOUGH A THRALL CAN STILL LIE.

TG: how is that by the way

CG: WHAT

TG: being enthralled

TG: hows it feel

TG: that shit has taken down empires before

CG: L9ve that rends and 6l99d that sews.

CG: THOSE ARE JUST RUMORS ABOUT MY ANCESTOR. EVERYONE KNOWS HE ACTUALLY SLAYED THE CONDESCE IN BATTLE.

CG: MY BLOOD PUSHER ACHES AND I WANT TO LAUGH NONSTOP. IT MAKES ME WANT TO PUKE ALL THE MEALS YOU’VE EVER NOT COOKED IN ONE GREAT SLEW OF GALL JUICES.

TG: so

TG: like a scene out of one of your shitty romcoms

CG: NOT EVEN CLOSE, FUCK YOU. 

CG: DO YOU REALIZE I’VE NEVER FELT LIKE THIS BEFORE?

CG: I MEAN, EVERYONE KNOWS ABOUT THAT CRUSH I HAD ON JADE.  THAT WAS JUST SOME NAIVE, DREAMY EYED WIGGLER NONSENSE THOUGH.

TG: dude wtf are you on about

CG: I WOULD’VE LIKED TO PROPERLY COURT A NICE PERSON SOMEDAY.

TG: ...

CG: INSTEAD I DID THIS TO MYSELF.  AND THIS FUCKER MIGHT KILL ME IF I TRY TO UNDO IT.

CG: THERE GO ALL MY DREAMS FOR FUTURE ROMANTIC ENDEAVORS.

TG: wait seriously

TG: i am laughing so hard right now

TG: why the hell did you use romantic feelings for your paradox voodoo or whatever

CG: I DIDN’T.  I INITIALLY WOVE IT JADE, l9ve value pr9tect all. BUT IT FEELS

CG: HOW DO I PUT IT.

CG: I DIDN’T TIE US VERY TIGHTLY AT FIRST. HE WAS STILL GOING TO TURN ME IN, SO I THREW EVERYTHING I AM INTO IT AND MADE IT MORE PERMANENT JUST NOW. SHADED IT TYRIAN, RUST, AND A BIT OF EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN. ADDED MY LOVE OF /QUALITY/ DRAMAS, MY FRIENDS, YOU, ALL THE IDEALS I COULD SUMMON.

CG: I’M STUCK WITH SOMETHING THAT NOTHING ELSE WILL BE ABLE TO LIVE UP TO.  IT’S PAINFUL, AND IT’S GOING TO HURT WORSE WHEN I’M SAFE AND I BREAK IT.

CG: NO ONE TOLD ME THIS WOULD BE SO EXHAUSTING EITHER. THE SOLDIER NEARLY PASSED OUT ON TOP OF ME, AND I’M READY TO COLLAPSE MYSELF.

TG: i realize you are still in a life or death situation

TG: but you have to see some of the humor here

CG: NO I DO NOT SEE THE HUMOR.  MY THOUGHTS ARE TOO DISORGANIZED RIGHT NOW.

CG: WITH THE EXCEPTION OF MY OBVIOUS RELIEF THAT I AM NEITHER DEAD NOR RUNNING FOR MY LIFE THROUGH THE WILDERNESS.  THAT IS CLEAR ENOUGH. SOME PART OF ME INSISTS ON BEING EXTREMELY GRATEFUL TO HIM, BUT I KNOW IT’S ALL FAKE. IT’S PAINFUL.

CG: I THINK THE MOST COHERENT PART OF MY THINKPAN IS STILL STUNNED THAT HE’S A BLUEBLOOD.

TG: wait hes a troll

TG: the uns does that now?

CG: NO, HUMANS STILL HAVE A CLAUSE EXPLICITLY ALLOWING DISCRIMINATION IF THE DISCRIMINATED PARTY MAY BE A PSIONIC.  WHICH IS EVERY TROLL THAT ISN’T BRAIN DEAD. THAT IS A THING.

CG: THE SOLDIER ISN’T A TROLL THOUGH. HE LOOKS VERY HUMAN, BUT HE HAS BLUE BLOOD.

TG: wtf you don’t think

CG: YEAH I DO

CG: HE SAID HE SHOWS UP NEGATIVE ON PSIONIC RADARS. HENCE WHY NO ONE FINDS IT ODD THAT MY OWN NEGATIVE FIELD IS HERE.

CG: I THINK HE’S A PARADOX CLONE.

TG: holy shit

TG: blue

TG: youre sure its blue?

CG: I AM. IT’S BLUE NOT RED.

TG: you realize this is exactly what the bq has been trying to convince you to do for years

CG: I KNOW.

TG: and you just fucking did it by accident while on the run?

CG: DARE I SAY IT?

CG: I KNOW.

CG: HATE TO FONDLE MYSELF IN FRONT OF A NUN *BUT* I DID SOMETHING RIGHT, FOR ONCE.

TG: yeah no shit

TG: give yourself a pat on the back kid

TG: you should feel proud

TG: we are throwing a banquet in your honor when you get back

CG: ACTUALLY, I FEEL TERRIBLE ABOUT IT, AS THOUGH I’M MANIPULATING MY BEST FRIEND, LYING TO YOU, AND DEALING PROMISCUOUSLY AT THE SAME TIME.

CG: MY ABILITIES ARE UNBELIEVABLY SHITTY.

TG: eh

TG: we’ll work this out over some aj later kitkat

CG: APPLE JUICE DOES NOT SOLVE ALL PROBLEMS.

TG: that right there is blasphemy

TG: okay what all do you know about this paradox clone so far

TG: Full disclosure, please. kinda need to know how ur doing

CG: HE SAYS HE DOESN’T HAVE A NAME, BUT “YOU CAN CALL ME JOHN EGBERT”.

CG: HE HAS VERY MIXED RELATIONS WITH THE OTHER PEOPLE HERE. NONETHELESS, HE CARES FOR THEM ENOUGH TO LAY DOWN HIS OWN LIFE IF NECESSARY. I’M NOT EVEN A SENSOR TYPE CLASS, AND I CAN SEE IT, THE BONDS ARE SO STRONG.

CG: HE ALSO HAS A CLOSE RELATIONSHIP WITH A BRONZEBLOOD.  AT FIRST, I ASSUMED JOHN WAS A REBEL OF SOME KIND THAT WAS SECRETLY SEEING A TROLL. NOW I AM OF THE OPINION THAT THE BRONZEBLOOD IS HIS PATRON.

CG: HE HAS BLACK HAIR, A CLEAR ALBEIT SICKLY COMPLEXION, ABOUT 5’9”, WIDE HIPS. HE’S NOT ACTUALLY SICKLY. HE CARRIED ME THREE MILES WITHOUT EVEN SWEATING. I SUSPECT HE LOOKS OFF BECAUSE HIS SKIN IS THIN: HIS BLOOD SHOWS THROUGH, LIKE A REGULAR HUMAN. GENDER WAS AMBIGUOUS UNTIL HE TOOK OFF HIS STRANGE, ELECTRONIC HELMET WITH A VISOR. WEARS A STANDARD UNIFORM, LINED BLUE, HAS STUDIED ANTI PSIONICS FOR 6 YEARS, AND- FUCK FULL DISCLOSURE IN THE EYE SOCKET- HAS PRETTY BLUE EYES THE SAME COLOR AS HIS BLOOD. SOMETHING ALONG THE LINES OF HEMO CODE 0716DC. HE LOOKS HUMAN UNTIL YOU CUT HIM OPEN.

CG: OH, AND HE DOESN’T GET OUT MUCH. HE CAN BE REALLY NAIVE. HE ALSO SAID THAT GOING TO A MOVIE THEATER IS ONE OF HIS DREAMS.

TG: okay im not even enthralled and i am having empathy pangs over here

TG: any psionics observed?

CG: NOTHING YET.

CG: FOR THE TIME BEING, I AM STUCK GOING WHEREVER HE GOES, IF I DON’T WANT TO GET PICKED UP ON RADAR AGAIN. PRESUMABLY I WILL BE ABLE TO COLLECT MORE INFORMATION.

TG: Thank you, Knight.

TG: im going to have to talk to the bq about this asap 

CG: WAIT.  YOU DON’T THINK EGBERT *IS* ONE OF THE BQ’S CLONES, DO YOU?

TG: he is

TG: i recognize the name

CG: THAT’D BE TOO MUCH OF A COINCIDENCE. I DON’T BELIEVE IT.

CG: BESIDES, I THOUGHT THE BQ DIDN’T TRUST YOU ENOUGH TO TELL YOU THEIR NAMES.

TG: nothing is too weird when paradox space is involved

CG: OH MY FUCK WHAT

TG: dude i explained this to you already you know how it works

TG: or at least you know as well as anyone else does

TG: causality and time loops and all that

CG: NOT THAT.

CG: HE HAS MY SYMBOL.

CG: IT’S ON A LITTLE SQUARE OF FABRIC ON HIS DESK.

CG: WHY DOES HE HAVE THAT.

CG: MY THINK PAN HAS PASSED OFFICIAL CAPACITY AND IS LEAKING OUT MY AUDITORY CANALS IN A MIX OF MUCUS-BASED WAX AND NEURON-PASTRY FILLING.

TG: well thats new

TG: im going to go out on a limb and say paradox space is definitely involved here

CG: THIS DOESN’T MAKE ANY SENSE.

TG: maybe he follows the sufferer or some shit

CG: HOW WOULD A KID IN THE MILITARY GET INVOLVED WITH THOSE GROVELLING LAYABOUTS? WHY WOULD HE?

TG: the philosophers or the cultists

CG: ALL OF THEM ARE GROVELLING LAYABOUTS.

TG: point taken

TG: i guess you’ll have to find out

TG: if that covers everything im going to go report this and put together a plan

TG: ask the thrall where you are and why he has your sign as soon as you get a chance

TG: if you are willing try to get to know him

TG: act friendly

TG: the bq will probably ask you to at least put in a few good words for us

TG: oh can you do me a favor and invite someone in your own division to the chat next time so i don’t have to do the paperwork

TG: glad youre alive

TG: love you

TG: oh and

TG: Good work, Knight.

 

\-- TangentialGodslayer went offline--

 

CG: FUCK YOU TOO. AT LEAST WAIT FOR ME TO ANSWER.

 

Karkat tucked away his phone and looked at the sleeping figure.  He tried to ignore the fluttering in his abdomen.  He ought to be investigating the room while the other was asleep, but the enthrallment took a lot out of him.  Not to mention the difficulties of investigating with a broken leg. Giving in, he laid down next to the human and drifted into unconsciousness.


	7. Chapter 7

[5002 CR]

 

If a star could be captured and put in a jar, it might be as dazzling as Doctor Maryam’s flickering third eye.  When it turned on him, JE0 shivered.  Once again, he got the impression that the very air around him was sifted by an invisible hand.  Not to mention how disturbing it was to see such an alien protrusion on such an achingly familiar face.  Really, JE wasn't going to mention it, not even in the most vague flicker of thought in the recess of his mind.  The shape sunk into Rose’s skin and faded into a gold tattoo resembling a sun icon, then disappeared completely.

 

“Already prodding back at me, are you?  Seems I’ve replaced Harley just when I’m needed.  You could say I have preternatural timing.”  The doctor chuckled, the humor obvious only to her.

 

DS clung to his chair, white knuckled.  “That’s not possible.  Psionics rely on paradox space and we…  Humanity got fucked over on that front.   _ What are you? _ ”

 

The doctor’s vampire-like smile could give a child nightmares.  “I’m a contradiction of the sort we only ever see in ordinance.  My abilities are aspected toward fortune and clarity.  That clarity is what allowed me to come into my power in the first place.  A loop in causation.  As for humanity’s natural disposition… Instead of pulling in and manipulating the everyday world, I reach out in paradox space itself.  A psionic with a strong positive signature; in the lab we used the nickname beacon, though the term is a vast oversimplification.”

 

DS kept it straight.  “And us?”

 

“Given any  _ luck _ , the three of you will develop your own positive aspects now that you’re reaching puberty.  Short of that, the work we did when constructing you along with my genes and my guidance will guarantee you at least a few passive skills.  If I may, that will help even the odds quite nicely when you face PCs in battle.”

 

Rose didn’t wave or otherwise indicate which three she was talking about, but JE  _ knew _ .  “What about DS, RL, and- and me?”

 

Maryam looked ready to tear into a juicy steak as she flashed her teeth at JE.  “You three are more successful than I’d ever dared hope.  I can already see the hint of an aspect on you.  You should see some  _ interesting _ changes as you hit a pseudo-puberty period.”

 

“ _ What did you do to us _ ,” JE hissed.

 

“We experimented with a new cloning method for reconciling fundamentally incompatible biology systems.”

 

From their expressions, JE guessed that JC and JH followed the explanation about as poorly as he did.  DS reacted a little more violently.  “What the hell?  You played around with paradox cloning with  _ us _ ?  That’s so fucked up; inhumane.”

 

“Wait, paradox cloning?  I read about that recently.”

 

JC raised an eyebrow.  “You read up on something outside of the curriculum?”

 

JE shrugged, remembering his conversation with Bro.  “So it was for my proprietor.  That’s not the point.  That stuff is all completely theoretical.  There’s no way we’re…  We’re…”  No matter how much he drank, his mouth tasted of phantom metal and salt.  That couldn’t be right.  He may be a clone, but he felt perfectly normal.  Except in bright light and strong wind.  That barely counted though.  He had a regular body with flat teeth and red blood.

 

A few perigrees back, so did RL and TG.

 

Reconciling incompatible systems of… two different species?

 

Cursing, JE threw himself out of his chair and ran.  “Wait!” one of his teammates called.  He didn’t stop until he was at the room the other two trainees were recuperating in.  Throwing open the door, he stormed in, out of breath.  Rose and the rest of his team were right behind him.

 

JE wasn’t even sure what he wanted, but he wasn’t going to get it. TG and RL were both sitting up in beds, looking quite chipper for the circumstances.  Until they saw him.  TG flinched and RL covered her mouth.  JE started to take a step toward them, but TG cut him off.

 

“Here to finish the job?   _ You missed _ .”

 

“What, no!  Of course not, I-”

 

“Right between the liver and the major hepatic veins, the doctor said.  Should’ve been a guaranteed kill shot.  Would've been if it was a centimeter in any direction.  Miracle that I’m alive.”

 

“That was the  _ point _ , so they wouldn’t know-”

 

DS grabbed him and swung him around.  “JE.  Did you…?”

 

“No, I just-”

 

“He tried to kill TG.”  RL answered for him.

 

“ _ What _ ?”

 

“I was ordered to!”

 

“You didn’t have to  _ do  _ it,” RL argued.

 

Everyone was staring at him with some mix of surprise, anger, accusation, and horror.  Despite the trial he went through, his hysteria and inner turmoil, there wasn't the slightest hint of sympathy from any of his closest friends.  Didn't they understand?  They went through the same thing everyday.  How could any of them bear to break simple rules for inane pleasures when the consequences were so heavy?  

 

Something in JE snapped.  The pit of his stomach burned like the heart of a forge, and something sharp and steely formed in him.  He’d never been so furious in his whole life.  He yanked himself from DS’s grip and pointed at TG with a shaking finger.  “It was your fault in the first place!  Were you trying to get RL and I terminated?  Unlike  _ you _ , I belong to the military.  I can’t just up and quit.  I do what I say every goddamn day so I don’t end up like JH2 and RL1.  I watch the same stupid movies every week and put up with you wearing my stupid sweaters, and I’ve never once tried on your stupid sunglasses.  Do I ever complain? No!”

 

JH1 tried to interrupt him.  “Hey, it’s-”

 

“ _ Shut up _ ,” he growled.  “Do you even care what I have hanging over my head?  If I do something wrong, if I don’t listen, I could  _ die _ .  Do you think that’s how it would be if I had a  _ choice _ ?  No!  But I don’t have any options, and I do what I’m told.  If I’m ordered to kill you, I have to do it.  Or would you rather we  _ both _ died, huh?  Like you even care.  So what if Harley wasn’t allowed to make the call he did?  I’m a tool.  I’m not protected if I disobey illegitimate commands like  _ you.   _ If our new handler makes the same call,  _ I’ll fucking stab you again _ .  I don’t want to be terminated.  Even though I’m scared,  _ so scared, all the time _ , I still saved you back there, when the woman  _ you _ didn’t want to hurt- didn't even  _ ask _ us- turned out to be not just a traitor but some kind of glowing green horror.  Was it RL that carried your ass out of the blast zone? No?  _  It was me _ .  She couldn't even save herself.”  

 

He turned on the girl, seething.  “Bro knew you weren't going to do it.  I knew.  You'd have a termination order too, an actual one, if I didn't cover for you, you coward.  And who was it that tied up your foot even though you’re- you’re  _ pink _ , like one of those  _ things _ .  I risked my ass back there to save both of you.  I  _ did _ save you.  You- you ungrateful  _ shits _ .  Did you actually want to  _ die? _ Turns out I might be a monster.  You want me to act like one?   _ Just say the word _ .  I’ll crush you right here and now.”

 

DS punched him in the face, knocking one of his teeth loose.  “ _ Don’t joke about that shit _ .”

 

JE hissed and clamped down on the retreating hand.  His maw easily sunk through gloves and sinew.  Hands yanked him back, and he left behind his left canine in his teammate’s flesh. At first he kicked and flailed, yelling, “You wanna die, too, DS?  It might be your head TG risks next time. Just gonna let him get us all killed?!”

 

Then he saw DS’s face. The other boy, ever stoic, was positively disgusted.  JE went limp and let himself be dragged out of the room.

 

JH shoved him in a chair.  They were the only ones left in the private waiting room.  “What in tarnation, JE?”

 

He fumed for a few minutes, then deflated.  Just as fast as it appeared, the anger was gone, leaving a hollow feeling in his chest.  Burying his face in his hands, he muttered, “Oh, god.  Oh god.  I didn't mean it.  I’m sorry.  I don't even know half of what I said back there.”

 

JH shifted a bit.  “Sure, JE.  Whatever you say.”

 

“I'm relieved they're okay. I am!  I was just so angry.   _ Why were they looking at me like that? _ ”

 

“Of course you are.  I can't even remember the last time you were mad about something.  It was bound to happen some time.”

 

“I didn't think I'd use all that special training so soon, but I'm really glad I worked so hard.”

 

“Yeah, you always work hard.  You make me look like a layabout!”

 

JE kept going.  He was looking at the other trainee without seeing.  “I'm so glad that TG is okay.  I just don't know what I’d do if I messed up back there.”

 

“Yeah, me too.  Stabbed, wow!”

 

“I know.  I’m so dumb!  Why did I try such a hard maneuver?  The liver, of all things!”

 

“Heh, we all like to show off a little.  Like when… No, maybe that was just RL and me.”

 

“I was just  _ so _ scared they'd know I messed up on purpose if I, I dunno, aimed below the ribs or just punched him when he jumped me.”

 

“Mm hmm.  I blunder that one all the time.”

 

“You- what?”

 

“Oh, you know.  I’m a bit of a dunderhead.  I always make a massive fool of myself at… you know.”

 

JE finally focused on the other trainee.  The boy was staring at him blankly, scratching his chin.  “JH, do you even know what I’m talking about?”

 

“I mean, everyone was rather cross with you back there.  I didn't  _ quite _ catch why.  You started yelling before anyone clarified.  I was a little alarmed when you bit DS.  I'm sure he’ll be fine, though, no hard feelings.”

 

JE sighed.  The other trainee was a very talented strategist.  If one read his essays or graded his exams, one would conclude him a prodigy in his specialized field.  He could see right through a general’s thought process, as though he knew his theoretical enemies better than they understood themselves.  When you leaned back and looked at the whole picture, well, JE wasn't sure whether the trainee was high functioning in one area, or simply self absorbed.  Neither answer really made sense given his record.  Maybe a simple dismissal like dunderhead was the best way to describe the kid’s contradictions.

 

“JH, I was ordered to kill TG.  I stabbed him.”  As he said it, guilt clawed at his gut.

 

“Oh my!  Are you still under orders?  Then, well, forgive me, friend, but I may have to-“

 

“No!  Just no.  The order was withdrawn when Sergeant Harley realized he was being a stupid asshole and we were  _ in the middle of an emergency _ .”

 

“I see...  Harley is so smart, but sometimes he can't see past his own nose.  That might be why he hasn't gotten a promotion for a long time,” JH described his proprietor.

 

JE couldn't help but laugh a little.  Even if it was a bit simple, that was  _ raw irony _ , TG would say.  God, would he ever get to joke with TG about his strange, contrarian interests again?  The boy looked terrified of him.  “Hey, JH.”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Even if everyone else is mad at me… You’ll still talk to me, right?”

 

“Why wouldn't I?”

 

“Promise me?”

 

“Of course!  I promise!”

 

JE didn't smile, but he felt a little better.  That one promise, made without much thought by his dunderhead teammate, would go on to keep him sane the next two sweeps.


	8. Chapter 8

[5004 CR]

 

A solid tap, tap, tap pulled John from his slumber.  He rubbed his eyes.  When was the last time he slept so well?  His insides felt warm. Tap, tap.  Just as John was about to yell and invite the visitor in, his elbow bumped into something.  He jerked up as though shocked.  How did he fail to notice a  _ troll _ in his military grade bed?  They must’ve been flush against each other the entire night.  Tap, tap, tap.  Panicking, John yanked a drawer out of his dresser and upended it on Karkat, burying his upper half in red sweaters.  The troll flailed.

 

“ _ Stop. Quiet. Shh _ .”  Either it understood or it heard the knocking.  It stopped flailing and let John bury it.

 

“JE0.  I can hear you in there.”

 

John set the drawer on the ground and tugged open the door.  A tall, wiry young man was standing at rest in the door frame.  “Sorry about that, DS.  I wasn’t sure where I put my favorite handkerchief.”  He waved at his bed and shifted uneasily.

 

The trainee stared at him, orange eyes as inscrutable as ever.  “You have a favorite handkerchief.”

 

“Uh, yeah.  It’s softer than the other ones. Higher thread count...”

 

If DS wore glasses like his original, his eyebrow would’ve shot right over them.  “Hate to break it to you, but your handkerchief is probably ruined.”

 

“Sorry, what?”

 

“You lost a handkerchief recently.  I found it.  Came to return it to you.” Was DS actually going along with his obvious excuse?

 

“Oh.  That was thoughtful of you.”   _ What the hell _ .

 

DS pulled a square of fabric out of his pocket.  It was a grey silk towel with the same looping emblem John was required to wear daily, but in bright red.  It was also stained with oil.  “You left it in the command center.  Anyways, I’m in charge of checking you weren’t injured while facing the target yesterday.  We were a little disconcerted by your radio silence.”

 

“No, I uh…” John wrung his hands together, and he noticed a smear of red blood on his right palm.  Covering it, he said, “I’m fine.”

 

DS shrugged.  “I need you to write a report detailing what happened.  The doc gave you the whole day just for this, so it better be a damn good report.”

 

“Yes, Captain!”  DS left.  John hurried to close and lock the door.  His legs were shaking so much that he had to sit down on the floor.  A few deep breaths later, he added, “You can come out now.  It’s fine.  Safe.  Clear.”

 

The pile of red sweaters burst outward and Karkat emerged.  “Hoo?”

 

“Pardon?”

 

The troll pointed at the door.  “Hwoo? Ffrendn Jonhn?” it asked.

 

“Oh, that was DS1.  We’ve been training together as long as I can remember.  He’s my captain for this training mission; we rotate off.”

 

“Dnntnddertstaadnd.”

 

“What?”

 

The troll threw its hands up in defeat.  It pulled out its phone and clacked away at the keys.  Karkat waved at him and pointed at the Blueberry.  “Jonhn.”

 

“Not right now.  I’m going to go grab us food, and get you some crutches, alright?”

 

“Ffood?”

 

“Yes, food.  So, stay here.  Stay.”

 

Karkat waved at its leg.  “Hevv ststay, dhuh.”

 

“That’s true, I suppose.  I’ll be right back.”

 

The trainee took two steps out of his quarters, then paused.  He estimated he’d have about half a minute in the kitchen before the troll showed up as a second signature on radar.  John reached for the stagnant air, hoping he could increase that time if he kicked up enough wind.  While he walked, he attempted to keep a constant imaginary hand on the air, stirring it gently throughout the complex. The effort made him break out in sweat before he was even halfway to the kitchen.  Interesting.  He could feel both of his teammates breathing.  The Doctor seemed to be out though.

 

Oh darn, one of them was also heading toward the kitchen.  John jogged so he’d beat the other there.  Why was the training outpost so darn large?  It had been sweeps since it was staffed as a proper base of operations.  In some of the recent additions, those experiments of the Doctor’s really itched at his sense of the wind.  

 

At the kitchen, John dug through the cupboards until he found a box of cereal that should be reasonably healthy for both a human and a troll, some beef jerky, and a carton of milk.  After considering it for a moment, he added a single spoon, bowl, and cup to the mix.  Better to err on the side of caution.  Oh, he was too slow.  There was the other trainee now.

 

“JE. Still kicking and hungry, I see.”  JH1 walked into the kitchen and pulled an orange out of the fridge.  He bit into it without peeling it.

 

“Yeah, I’m- heh- still breathing.”

 

“Slimy bastard, you stole the show yesterday.  Taking down a PC like it was nothing.  Heaven forbid you leave a round of fisticuffs for the rest of us!”

 

“Sorry.  It was pretty much over when it broke its leg.  Tripped it, stabbed it, knocked its body in the river.”

 

“Unusually clumsy of you.  Doc Mar was curious about that.  What class of PC was it?”

 

John paused at that.  “It was interfering with communications,” he went with his earlier lie, “Biotechnic.  Probably passive.”

 

“Must be how it went under radar so long.”  That would be a good explanation, were it true.  He would have to ask Karkat about that later.

 

“So…” John started to walk away, but JH sidestepped him.

 

“Will you practice with DS and I today?  Since you have the day off.”

 

“...I may have to pass.”  If he tried to strife while playing with the air around him, his reaction time would be destroyed.  He wasn't sure how DS would react to the discrepancy.  Then again, remaining holed up in his room might attract just as much attention.  A third option… “I was planning on baking.  You're welcome to join me.”

 

“I didn't realize you could even get mail here!  How much cake mix did you get from Mr. Crocker?”

 

“I wasn't sent any cake mix.  I’m… going to make some from scratch?”  So much for diet regulations.

 

JH’s eyes lit, the childish delight in contradiction with his muscled frame.  “Really?  That's so exciting!  I hope it goes well.”

 

“Yeah.  I still have to look up a recipe.”

 

“Ask Crocker for one!  The great grandson of such a famous baker ought to know some good ones.”

 

“Right.  Yeah.  I’ll do that sometime. ...I’m going to go work on my report now.”

 

“Cool!  See you later.”

 

John waved and made his way to the infirmary.  He dug a pair of crutches out of storage along with some painkillers and fresh bandages before hurrying back to his room.  The troll was sitting right where it was left, amidst a mess of turtlenecks, staring at its phone.  It looked surprised when John offered it the crutches.

 

“Sorry about your leg.  These are for you.”

 

“Ohh.  Thhknss.”

 

It propped them against the bed, then eagerly snatched the beef jerky from John.  While it tore at the meat, he sat next to it on the bed and poured some cereal into the bowl and cup.  He set the bowl and spoon in front of the troll and took the cup for himself.  After adding milk, he sipped at the makeshift meal.

 

“HWhatt.”  Karkat pointed at the cup.

 

“Have you had cereal and milk before?”

 

“Dnnt nndrsttand.”

 

“Nevermind.  Are you in pain?”  John held out the bottle of painkillers.  The troll grunted and set aside the jerky.  John snatched a few pieces while the troll was occupied with the pills.  It grabbed the carton of milk and looked at John.

 

“Ddo?”

 

“Go ahead.”  It pointed at John’s cup.  “I only have one cup.  Sorry.”

 

“Ssoryr?”  John nudged the carton closer toward it.  It shrugged and tipped back the carton, swallowing the pills.  Hopefully, that and the bindings would be enough for Karkat.  John worried about complications as the chitin healed.

 

When they finished eating, John started picking up the sweaters and folding them.  The troll waved its phone at him.  “If you are in such a hurry, help me clean up.”

 

“hWhatt?”

 

“Clean.  Sweaters.  Pick up.  Fold.  Do laundry.  Understand?”  Trying to make his point, John deposited one of the red articles in the drawer sitting on the floor and gesticulated the motion.

 

“Nno.”  The troll typed another message.

 

“Well I don’t know how to be more clear than that.”

 

The troll grumbled and picked up a sweater.  He folded it neatly, then hobbled right past the drawer and to the dresser.  John noted that it must’ve used crutches before with how easily it maneuvered.

 

“No, those go in this drawer.”

 

The troll ignored him and started opening drawers.  When it got to the top left drawer, it outright dropped the sweater on the floor and reached into the drawer.

 

“No, put that back.  Krrk’kt, stop.  No.  Bad.”

 

Karkat sent another message, then held up the handkerchief he had.  He pointed at the emblem on it and alternated between muttering in Alternian and typing on his phone.  “Jnhn, hwhyy hevv?”

 

“Don’t touch that.  It’s mine.”

 

“Nno,  _ mine _ .”

 

John scowled and crossed his arms.  “What, are we two now?  Put it back.  It is not your’s and you cannot take my things as you please.”

 

“ _ Mine _ .  hWhyy hevv?  Jonh?”  The troll folded the handkerchief carefully and put it back in the drawer.  Then it unzipped the front of its dirty jacket.  “SSSea?   _ Mine _ .”

 

“Oh.”

 

Karkat pointed at it’s chest.  The halterless shirt underneath was black overlaid with the emblem of the Sufferer and lined in red.  “ _ Mine _ .  hWhyy hevv?”

 

“Okay, you made your point.  Calm down.  You’re pretty fond of that troll pacifist guy then?  What was it again…  The Sufferer?”

 

The troll’s eyes went wide.  “Yuo, yyuo… hWhatt?  Dnntnndersttdnd.  hWhyy?”

 

“Are you asking about the Sufferer?  I only know a little.”  John placed the last sweater in the drawer and carried the whole set over to his dresser.  After replacing it, he patted the troll on its shoulder and said, “See, that didn’t take so long.  Now we can message each other.  I’m sort of looking forward to it, actually.”  It just glared at him.  Bemused, he grabbed the laptop from his desk and sat on the bed.  “Here, sit next to me.”


	9. Chapter 9

[5002 CR] [UNS Psionics Suppression Dallas Outpost Code 1024]

 

After the disastrous first training mission, JE0 and his teammates, short of RL, were shipped to a vacant facility and given a week off.  JE was certain the other trainees wouldn't want to share either of the two living quarters with him, not with the way they watched him.  Any of them could kick his ass, in a fair fight mind you.  Hence, there was no real reason to fear he’d lose it or follow through on one of the threats he’d shouted in his rage, now that they were wary of him.  While they were awake.  For TG’s peace of mind, JE never asked for the keycode to the dorms.  He wished he could take back everything he said.

 

That was how Bro found him staring absently between the bandage on his finger and the ceiling of the commons the first night, wallowing uselessly. “Couch more comfortable than your bed, kid?”

 

JE sat up.  “Good evening, sir.”

 

“None of that.  It's two in the morning.”

 

“Sorry, Bro.”

 

A pillow and blanket materialized in Bro’s hands.  “Here.”

 

“Thanks…” JE waited for his teacher to say something else.  The man just stood there and, presumably, looked at him.  “Do you need something?”

 

Abruptly, the man sat next to him.  “...Want to talk?”

 

“Sure,” JE said, surprised.  Bro never expressed any interest if one of them was upset, leaving it to the other trainees to take care of.  RL especially was their metaphorical ice cream after a bad breakup.  Except the only trainee currently talking to JE was an idiot.

 

“...So.”  The man stared at him awhile longer.  Eventually, he promoted uncertainly, “How are you?”

 

All at once, it dawned on JE that the man was so sparing with his praise, with familial gestures and comfort, not for lack of care or the need to be professional.  Being cagey and protective of them was just more suited to his skillset.  JE smiled a little at the realization and answered honestly, “I’m okay.”  The man still scared him shitless, mind.

 

“...Good.”

 

“I’m still really angry with everyone.  I can't believe they actually think I'd hurt TG.  My teammates are everything to me.”

 

“Sorry for asking that of you.”  The simple apology was pained, though it didn’t show on Bro’s face.  Of course it didn’t.

 

“I know you don't have any real authority,”  JE sighed, resigned.  “Better me than RL, I guess.  She would’ve disobeyed for sure.  Who knows what the Sergeant or Major Lalonde would've done then.  Or the troll could’ve killed us while we were fighting.”  JE chewed his lip.  “Not sure about Doctor Maryam.  I don't think she'd ever have us terminated, though.  Not with how weirdly possessive she is.”

 

“Still fucking sucks.”

 

“Yeah.”  JE glanced at his bandage again.

 

“It's growing back.”

 

“Pardon?” JE questioned.

 

“RL’s foot.  There’s new cartilage forming.  Rapidly.  It should ossify after a couple perigrees or so.”

 

Trolls often regain limbs during pupation, the back of his mind provided.  “That's disgusting!”

 

“...not relieved?”

 

JE shrugged.  “They would've installed a bionic foot.”  He poked at his bandage.  “I just can't believe they're-”  _ we’re _ “-part troll.  That's so wrong.  I mean, it's in their  _ brains _ .”

 

Bro looked deliberately at JE’s hand.  “That's why you keep pricking your finger?”

 

“No,” he denied weakly.  “I'm not.  Not.  I don't know.  They raid us and kill everything in sight, really violently.  They're all horrible.  I'm not like that!  I  _ can’t  _ be like that.  I know it.  I’m not- not a killer.”

 

“That's your answer, then.”

 

“Pardon?”

 

“You aren’t cut out for the military.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“Just remember that, kid.  I won’t promise everything will work out or kiss your fuckin’ booboos for you, but at least you know what you want.”

 

[5004 CR]

 

Reluctantly, the troll perched next to John and curled over its phone.  It watched closely as he opened a report template and the Pesterchum app.  No harm in multitasking.  He laughed when he saw the wall of grey text.

 

\-- CarcinoGeneticist opened memo STILL FUCKING SUCK AT ENGLISH on secure board NOW WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENS --

 

\-- CarcinoGeneticist invited GhostyTrickster to memo STILL FUCKING SUCK AT ENGLISH on secure board NOW WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENS --

 

CG: JOHN.

CG: WHO IS THE PERSON THAT ANSWERED THE DOOR.

CG: IS HE A FRIEND OF YOURS?  ANOTHER MEMBER OF THE MILITARY?

CG: WHY DID HE THINK MY TOWEL WAS YOURS.

CG: I AM AWFUL AT STEALTH. NO WONDER I’M NOT WITH DERSE DESPITE MY ABILITIES. CAN’T BELIEVE I DROPPED SOMETHING WHILE YOU WERE SNEAKING ME IN. WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, PAST KARKAT?  I’D SWEAR HE WAS HIGH IF I DIDN’T KNOW BETTER.  MAY AS WELL STRIP IN FRONT OF AN IMPERIAL DRONE AND PAINT A SIGN ON MY ASS THAT SAYS I’M A FUCKING REBEL AND A MUTANT TO BOOT.  CULL ME NOW.

CG: DID YOU SAY YOU’D BE BACK SOON?

CG: IT’S BEEN 15 MINUTES ALREADY.

CG: I SUPPOSE I’M JUST BEING IMPATIENT. CAN YOU BLAME ME? THE OTHER ONE COULD COME BACK ANY MINUTE. THEN I’M DEAD. 

CG: OH THERE YOU ARE.

CG: THANK FUCK, PAINKILLERS.

CG: WHY ARE YOU EATING OUT OF A CUP.

CG: CAN I HAVE A CUP ALSO?

CG: OH, FUCK IT. ENJOY MY BACKWASH. 

CG: AT LEAST MY SALIVA ISN’T POISONOUS. THAT’S THE SORT OF NATURAL PUNISHMENT FATE REGULARLY DISHES ME FOR MY INEPTITUDE AND FAILURES. SHE’D CHOKE HERSELF LAUGHING EVERY TIME I CRIED OVER NOT BEING ABLE TO MAKE OUT WITH MY THEORETICAL PARTNER. SPOILER: I’M A WEAK MINDED LEAKY, PLASTIC BOTTLE OVER HERE, AND IT’D BE EVERY WEEK.

CG: WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH YOUR CLOTHES.

CG: NO, STOP THAT JOHN.

CG: ANSWER YOUR MESSAGES FIRST.

CG: I REALIZE THIS IS MY FAULT FOR NEGLECTING TO LEARN ENGLISH WHEN I HAD THE OPPORTUNITY, AND MY YOUNGER SELF IS A FAILURE WITH OVERCOOKED PASTA NOODLES IN PLACE OF ACTUAL MIND MATTER THAT THOUGHT HE KNEW WHAT HE WAS DOING.

CG: BUT IT WOULD STILL BE HELPFUL IF YOU’D ANSWER YOUR MESSAGES SHITHEAD.

CG: NO

CG: I AM NOT HELPING YOU CLEAN YOUR RESPITEBLOCK.

CG: HEY NEW FRIEND THAT I ALMOST MAULED YESTERDAY, LET’S DO LAUNDRY TOGETHER. WHAT COULD BE MORE APPROPRIATE FOR GETTING TO KNOW EACH OTHER THAN HANDLING MY MODESTY ARTICLES.

CG: IT WAS BAD ENOUGH THAT YOU DUMPED THEM ON ME.  I WAS GOING TO LET THAT GO, SINCE IT WAS AN EMERGENCY.  BUT APPARENTLY YOU ARE BEING DELIBERATELY OBLIVIOUS.

CG: JOHN WHY DO YOU HAVE THIS?

CG: THIS IS MY SYMBOL.

CG: AND MY ANCESTOR’S SYMBOL.

CG: FUCK THAT KIGELI GUY FOR STEALING IT.

CG: DO YOU REALIZE HOW WEIRD IT IS THAT YOU HAVE THIS? I CAN’T IMAGINE YOU ARE A PACIFIST. YOU’RE CLEARLY IN THE MILITARY. 

CG: He wh9 6ears 9ur 9l66dlust f9r us and suffers in 9ur place.

CG: HOW DID YOU EVEN HEAR ABOUT THE SUFFERER WITHOUT EVER LEARNING ABOUT SKAIA? THAT’S SO BACKWARDS I’M HALF EXPECTING YOUR ASS TO BE ON YOUR FRONT AND YOUR DICK ON YOUR BACK.

CG: ALSO, QUIT TALKING TO ME LIKE A WOOFBEAST.

CG: OR DOG.  WHATEVER.

CG: YOU ARE A BAFFLING PERSON. DO YOU REALIZE THIS?

 

[5002 CR]

 

JE rose early so he could eat breakfast in peace.  Nonetheless, it was only a couple of minutes before he heard footsteps over the crunching sound echoing in his head.  He could feel her breath as a girl in a blue lined suit sat at the opposite end of the table.

 

JE0 dared a “good morning.”  Maybe JC would remain aloof, like JH?

 

“Morning,” JC1 said to her cereal.

 

JE noticed the girl was slowly warping her spoon, she was gripping it so tightly.  “Are-”

 

Before he could get more than a word in, she said, “DS needed stitches.”

 

“...I heard,” JE said to his cereal.  He’d have to apologize to DS as soon as he got a chance.

 

“So did TG.”

 

Yeah, JC was upset with him as well. “I’m sorry!”  Some part of him that didn’t operate with a sense of scale was disappointed to lose the opportunity to discuss tiramisu.  Although he had to admit it was his first time ever eating food that wasn’t from the academy’s mess hall or his proprietor, the occasion didn’t hold any salt against the sudden fissure between him and his teammates.

 

JC harrumphed, catching the disappointment.  “Consarn it all, JE, you thought I'd be plucky as ever?  I care very much for you, but I'm not an accommodating fool like JH.”

 

JE wrung his hands, a formerly abandoned nervous gesture.  “I don't know.  I guess I hoped… since I didn't yell at you or, well, the other stuff, that we’re still…” friends? “I mean, you're my family.  Genetically and all that.”

 

“Don't be daft!  An offense to my team is an offense to me.  I'm ashamed you don't feel the same way.”

 

JE shrunk in on himself.  “Sorry.”

 

“Sorry doesn't cut it, buster!  Not when you'd do the same thing again.”

 

“But I-”  _ won’t ever kill any of you. Never, ever, ever _ .   _ I'll fake it as many times as I have to.  I’ll only regret it if I’m caught too soon to be worthwhile to you all. _  He knew the cameras were on.  Major Lalonde could choose this conversation to review, to hear him promise to break orders.  He couldn't say it, couldn't risk it.  He was still terrified, still had nightmares about what the Major did to RL1 and JH2 and- oh god, he wasn't going to think about that.  “I'm sorry.”  His eyes were stinging.  He was losing JC, losing her here and now because he was a coward.  “I'm sorry, I don't know what else to do.  They're orders.  I have to listen.  I can't-”

 

“Well ain't that the dickens.”  Kree- there went JC’s spoon.  “For goodness sake, JE.  Why are you even trying to make up with me?  So you can complain every time I offer to bake with you?  My, oh my, these brownies are outside our allotted mixes from your proprietor.  What  _ ever _ shall we do?”  

 

JE was virtually folded in two at this point.  They had a strict nutritional plan, and he didn't want her to be reprimanded for breaking it.  He cared for her; that was all.  Didn’t she know that?  “But I…. You think I'm a nuisance?  And even before all this...”

 

JC stood and threw her spoon in the trash.  “You're still my family, and I'll still love you even if you kill me, but you’ve lost my trust.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> asdjlkdjf a i almost put this chapter before chapter nine. minus ten points for technical competence and minus five for procedure.

[5004 CR] Pesterlog Excerpt

 

\-- GhostyTrickster joined memo STILL FUCKING SUCK AT ENGLISH on secure board NOW WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENS --

 

CG: THANK YOU FOR JOINING ME.  I WAS QUITE READY TO THROW A FIT WORTHY OF A TWO SWEEP OLD OVER ALL THIS MIMERY. GOD KNOWS I'VE ALREADY DONE ENOUGH SHAMEFUL THINGS FOR ONE, SHORT LIFE.

GT: he?

CG: WHAT.

GT: oh i just noticed you used he when you referred to yourself in your monologue there.

CG: …

CG: DO I EVEN WANT TO ASK WHY THAT STOOD OUT TO YOU?

CG: I CAN’T IMAGINE THIS ENDING WELL.

GT: i mean

GT: i studied troll biology as part of my training.  we mostly focused on the correlation between blood color and offensive abilities but

GT: you only have one sex

GT: so uh

GT: i guess i wasn’t sure if that was just a translation thing or what

GT: alternian should use neutral pronouns right?

GT: other trainees would call my teammates and i “it” to imply a lack of sex, so i’ve sort of been thinking that one.

GT: i think that’s a little demeaning though, since no one calls us that in bro’s earshot ha. he’ll kick their butts.

CG: GOG DAMNIT, JOHN.

 

Suddenly, the troll was all over John, elbowing him, pulling on his cheeks, and butting him with his head.  “Jnohn.  Sttpd, tsttpid,  _ stupid _ Jnohn.”  Karkat laughed and shook his head.  Just as suddenly, his expression froze and he withdrew, curling in on himself and refusing to make eye contact.

 

GT: Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.

CG: I’M NOT UPSET.

CG: YOU SHOULD BE UPSET WITH ME FOR

CG: WHATEVER THE FUCK I JUST DID.

CG: YOU’D THINK I KNOW BETTER, BUT THEN YOU SAY THINGS LIKE THAT, AND I DIDN’T REALLY THINK THROUGH WHAT I WAS DOING.

CG: YOU’RE JUST SO NAIVE.  I WANT TO BE ANGRY ABOUT IT, BUT IT’S SO STUPID. YOU KNOW HOW TO SET TROLL CHITON, BUT YOU HAVEN’T THE SLIGHTEST IDEA ABOUT OUR CULTURE.

CG: NOT TO SAY THAT THE DIFFERENCE BETWEEN GENDER AND SEX ISN’T RELEVANT IN HUMAN CULTURE.

CG: WHAT AM I SAYING. I DON’T GIVE A SHIT WHETHER I OFFEND YOU.

CG: I STILL CAN’T BELIEVE YOU’VE NEVER BEEN TO THE MOVIE THEATER.  THAT’S SO SAD.

CG: OH MY GOG.  AGAIN WITH MY SHITTY PSI; WHY AM I DOING THIS. I’D BE MORE COHERENT WERE I HIGH ON SOPOR.

CG: Thr9ugh all 6l99ds, we l9ve. 

GT: dude are you okay

CG: I’M FINE.

GT: btw do you know CobaltGregarian?

GT: weird coincidence that

CG: WHO IS COBALTGREGARIAN. HOW IS THIS RELEVANT?

GT: a relative of an acquaintance i suppose

CG: THAT WASN’T VAGUE IN THE SLIGHTEST.

CG: DARE I REPEAT MYSELF, HOW IS THIS RELEVANT?

GT: well he’s another cg that uses 6s and 9s and sometimes capitals like that

CG: WHAT.

CG: THAT’S JUST A SIDE EFFECT OF MY ABILITIES. 

CG: MY ANCESTOR BLEEDS THROUGH.

GT: :?

CG: I HEAR HIM SOMETIMES.

CG: OR MAYBE IT WOULD BE MORE ACCURATE TO SAY I GET A SENSE OF HOW HE WOULD FEEL ABOUT THINGS IF HE WERE ME.

GT: oh you can speak with the dead?! :D

GT: some of our trainers were super religious, so they didn’t like to talk about trolls that can do that, but we had to study it. pretty important to know about the consequences of killing trolls when it’s my job…

GT: i still think the whole thing is dumb. isn’t that a good thing that we can prove we keep existing even if we get killed? pretty spooky though.

GT: actually, being haunted would be super cool

CG: LIES AND SLANDER, GHOSTS ARE TERRIFYING.

CG: I CAN’T SPEAK WITH THE DEAD, EXACTLY.

CG: THAT’S THE STRANGE THING. RELATIONSHIPS TEND TO BECOME BROKEN THREADS WHEN A PERSON DIES, BUT HIS AREN’T BROKEN FROM ME. MUST HAVE SOMETHING TO DO WITH HIS OWN PSI.  SEEMS LIKE IT WAS ABOVE TIME. YOU KNOW HOW IT IS WITH PARADOX SPACE.

CG: REAL DISCONCERTING WHEN I FIND MYSELF SPOUTING HIS PACIFIST SHIT AT RANDOM. MY DAD THOUGHT I WAS SCHIZOPHRENIC WHEN I WAS YOUNGER.

CG: OR MAYBE HE JUST SAYS THAT AS A JOKE. YOU NEVER KNOW WITH HIM. 

GT: huh.

GT: you mean you understood your lusus?

CG: MUTANTS DON’T GET LUSII. THANK MY LUCKY STARS I HATCHED UNDER THE CARE OF THE JADEBLOOD I DID. BLEW HER COVER AND RESCUED ME. I WAS THEN ADOPTED, SO I HAVE AN ACTUAL FATHER. MY FAMILY IS STRANGE AS FUCK, BUT HEY I’M NOT DEAD.

GT: that sounds really nice!

CG: WHAT’S YOUR FAMILY LIKE?

GT: bro sort of acts like family

GT: and i used to be really close with the other trainees. i would’ve liked to call them my family too.

GT: my proprietor says i can think of him as my dad.

GT: i’ve only seen him once, though.

GT: meeting him was really strange, too.

CG: I DOUBT HE’S AS SHITTY AT BEING A DAD AS MINE. HE MAKES ME SEW UNMENTIONABLES WITH HIM OR HELP WITH HIS HIT LIST AS PUNISHMENTS INSTEAD OF GROUNDING ME. HE HAS NO CONCEPT OF PARENTING OR PATERNAL ADVICE.  HE WAS ALSO COMPLETELY FUCKING USELESS AFTER I PUPATED SINCE HE KNOWS FUCK ALL ABOUT MID-TENS MOOD SWINGS. I SWEAR THERE WAS A PERIGREE I TRIED TO MAUL HIM EVERY OTHER DAY. DID HE BUY ME SOPOR? NO, HE LAUGHED IT OFF OR BEAT ME UP IF IT WAS REALLY BAD. THANK GOG I HAVE MY AUNTS.

CG: YOUR PROPRIETOR?

GT: what, that sounds crazy!

GT: right, no one says that outside the military. my proprietor essentially makes all my decisions for me.

GT: i met him in person for the first time recently and

GT: well i don't entirely recall what happened.

CG: WAIT, YOU’RE A SLAVE?

 

Karkat’s eyes were wide.  John looked away, ashamed.  He wasn’t sure why, but lying to the troll made him feel awful.  He wanted his new friend to like him as is, to know who he was and know  _ now _ .  The idea was absurd, and he knew better.  All his trainers made it clear how clones should be treated.  Except Bro.   _ Maybe Karkat is like Bro? _  No, the thought was asinine.  Karkat wasn’t even human.  Still, John was done tiptoeing and lying.  Staring intently at his screen, he wrote to Karkat.

 

GT: slavery is illegal in the uns.

GT: i’m just a clone

GT: a really freaky, messed up clone too. i can’t even pretend to myself that i’m human.

 

John felt a weight on his shoulder.  “Jnohn.”  The troll’s voice cracked, and John couldn’t help but look up.  Karkat was visibly upset, looking torn.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“Nno.”  The grip on John’s shoulder tightened.  The troll chewed his lip, deliberating over something.  _  Something _ , as though it could be anything but John’s revelation.   _ He almost had a friend, why did he feel so compelled to say something and ruin it.  After sweeps of hiding everything.. _ .  The troll tugged on his shoulder.

 

“FFukck.”  Karkat shuffled a bit, then turned around.  Using his arms and his one good foot, he pushed against the bed clumsily until his back bumped into John.  He turned back around and pulled John into a hug.  A hand ran through his hair.

 

“K-Karkat?”

 

Immediately, the troll corrected, “ _ Krrk’kt _ .”  As though it still mattered that John knew how to say his name.

 

John hiccuped once, then immediately scrambled to cover his eyes, pushing the troll away.  “I-I’m sorry.”  Unbidden, a hot tear rolled down his cheek.  “Oh,  _ no _ .  Please.  Don’t look at me.”

 

Instead of looking away, Karkat wiped the tear off.  Then he stared at the thin streak on his hand with completely unadulterated fascination.  “Bbleu.”

 

John started to pull away, but Karkat was still rubbing his head.  “Sorry.  I’m a freak.  I have weird blue tears and blue blood, okay?”

 

All at once, Karkat suddenly looked old and warm, and overwhelmingly sad.  “ _ Through all bloods, we love _ .”

 

The age washed away, leaving raw shock.  “hWhatt?”

 

John was just as surprised.  Between hiccups, he asked, “Are you fluent in English?”

 

“Nnglhsh. hWhatt?” Karkat pulled his hand away so he could type animatedly.

 

CG: MOTHER OF TROLL JESUS.

CG: WHAT DID I JUST SAY?

GT: what do you mean what did you just say

GT: you just said it

CG: THAT WAS ENGLISH, WASN’T IT?

GT: wait you can’t even tell?

CG: JOHN, THAT WAS MY PSIONICS AGAIN.

CG: EXCEPT MY ENGLISH IS AWFUL, AND MY ANCESTOR DIED BEFORE ENGLISH WAS INVENTED.

CG: WHAT THE FUCK JUST HAPPENED?

GT: like i know!

CG: YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO BE THE PSIONIC EXPERT OUT OF THE TWO OF US. I’M JUST THE GUY PEOPLE ASK FOR ROMANTIC ADVICE.

GT: yeah, i’m an expert in psychic abilities, not magically learning new languages. what the hell

GT: i mean, it's possible to learn with some classes of psionics. but it's always little things at a time.

GT: it took DS and RL 4 sweeps to learn alternian. that’s not something a passive skill can make up for.

GT: with the possible exception of aspects, i guess. they aren't well documented, and aspected abilities tend to work miracles

GT: also

GT: romance advice guy, really?

CG: SHUT UP. RELATIONSHIPS ARE MY FIELD OF EXPERTISE, OKAY?

 

Karkat punched him playfully, and John started laughing, another tear slipping down his face.  Wow, he was being emotional today.  Out of sheer necessity, he never cried, yet here he was, caught in the throes of emotion and completely off color; back and forth from scared, upset, and needy to warm, overjoyed, and gracious.  He was still surprised by his initial certainty that this troll was a  _ person _ .  That must be the source of his ridiculous mood swings.  He was rather terrified to consider what the resolution about the troll meant for his views of himself.

 

The troll seemed just as emotional.  When was the last time someone other than JH hugged him? Oh right.  It was when he met his proprietor.  Not the most pleasant of experiences.

 

GT: you

GT: you really don’t mind?

CG: WHAT.

GT: that i’m not human?

CG: FOR THE SAKE OF THE OFFICIAL RECORD, YOU ARE ASKING ME, A TROLL, WHETHER I’M UPSET THAT YOU AREN’T HUMAN.  YOU AREN’T ASKING SOME OTHER PERSON I WASN’T AWARE WAS READING THIS.

GT: well

GT: i mean

GT: i’m a _thing._ a weapon made by the military.

CG: A HYBRID.

GT: err i guess

CG: THAT IS THE TERM MY FAMILY USES. IT’S LESS OF A MOUTHFUL THAN PARADOX CLONE.

CG: YOU ARE A PARADOX CLONE, RIGHT?

GT: i

GT: yeah

GT: does

GT: does ectobiology come up often in your family or something?

GT: i didn’t think a lot of people were familiar with the study, since it's theoretical. officially anyways

CG: HAH

CG: YOU COULD SAY IT HAS COME UP A COUPLE TIMES.

CG: IF I’M BEING HONEST, I WAS A BIT OBSESSED BACK DURING MY MID-TENS. MY AUNTS MATCHED MY ENTHUSIASM TWICE OVER, WHICH DID NOT HELP ME IN THE SLIGHTEST.

GT: wait

GT: you were obsessed with ectobiology? is it like your hobby?

CG: NO WITH HYBRIDS.

CG: IF WE HAVEN’T COVERED THIS- READ THE SARCASM, IT’S DRIPPING LIKE HOT GREASE DOWN YOUR PROTEIN CHUTE- MY HOBBIES LARGELY CONSIST OF ROMANCE EPICS.

GT: uh

CG: I MEAN, HYBRIDS ARE REALLY FUCKING COOL.

CG: IF THE TECHNOLOGY IS PUBLICIZED, INTERSPECIES COUPLES CAN HAVE CHILDREN OF THEIR OWN.

CG: JUST BY EXISTING, THEY’RE AN EXAMPLE OF GOOD THINGS THAT CAN COME FROM PEACEFUL INTERACTIONS BETWEEN ALTERNIA AND THE UNS.

GT: but

GT: what?

CG: YOU CAN’T FAIL TO SEE THE VALUE OF IT.

CG: I HATE TO ACT LIKE A FUCKING WRIGGLER ON PERIGEE’S EVE

CG: BUT IT’S SORT OF INCREDIBLE THAT I JUST HAPPENED TO MEET YOU WHILE I WAS WANDERING AROUND, LOOKING FOR MY AUNT. UNLESS MY ABILITIES ARE FAILING ME YET AGAIN, SHE’S SOMEWHERE IN THIS DIRECTION.

CG: HOW DO

CG: SHIT. DO YOU MIND IF I ASK YOU A FEW QUESTIONS ABOUT YOURSELF?

 

John saw the reined in interest in Karkat’s eyes, bright as firelight. His jaw hung open slightly, letting fangs stick out everywhere- wow, those were actually rather blunt. He collected himself in a moment, and leaned toward John, making eye contact. He was looking for… permission? John nodded. The troll grabbed his arms, and peered closely at his hands- his nails were lacquered black to cover discoloration, though that didn’t hide how swollen and ugly his cuticles were. When Karkat turned to scrutinize his face, John smiled widely for the first time in years. It felt good to show off to someone that didn't see him as an engineered killer, and it felt good to smile without hiding something.  He couldn't believe the the troll thought so highly of the paradox abominations.  He half convinced himself he was having one of those dreams; where he's someone inherently important and cool.

 

Karkat actually had the audacity to poke John’s one fang, his left incisor. The troll was in awe.

 

GT: of course! i have a lot of questions for you too. 

GT: it seems like most of things i’ve been told about trolls are really wrong. i was so surprised to see you using a regular phone and stuff. but after talking, i realize you are definitely at least as emotional as me. also you don't seem very violent with all this interspecies peace talk. 

CG: JOHN, STOP THAT.  YOU SAY THINGS THAT ARE SO INFURIATING AND BACKWARDS THAT THEY END UP ENDEARING IN THEIR SHEER NAIVETY.  I CAN'T STAND IT.

 

Against all standard properties of facial anatomy, John’s smile got even wider.  Talking to this creature felt really comfortable and familiar, as strange as that was.  Between the leftover adrenaline and the newness of everything, it was a lot more exciting than chatting with JH.

 

GT: thanks!

GT: so the peace thing. you’re a follower of the sufferer?

CG: FUCK NO. I’M HIS DESCENDANT.

GT: seriously? :O

CG: NO, I’M JUST PRETENDING TO BE A RED BLOODED, CULL-ON-SIGHT MUTANT FOR THE FUN OF IT.

GT: oh. the sufferer had human blood too? that’s really interesting.

CG: YOU DIDN’T KNOW THAT? EVEN THOUGH YOU HAVE A DRAWER FULL OF OUR SIGN? AND YOU WEAR OUR COLOR?

GT: oh my proprietor makes me wear those.

GT: i think it’s some kind of joke.

CG: WHAT THE FUCK

CG: I WAS CONFUSED WHY YOU’D BE IN THE MILITARY IF YOU FOLLOW HIS IDEALS.  IT MADE MORE SENSE WHEN YOU SAID YOU ARE A SLAVE.

CG: BUT NOW YOU ARE SAYING THAT THE SHITMONKEY THAT OWNS YOU MAKES YOU WEAR IT?

CG: Kindess t9 l9w6l99ds. Freed9m to humans.

CG: SHUT THE FUCK UP.

CG: UGH FINE.

CG: AM I BEING TOO INSENSITIVE ABOUT THE SLAVERY THING?

GT: i’m not even a slave. i’m a clone.

CG: SO THEY’D LET YOU QUIT THE MILITARY IF YOU WANTED?

GT: well no

CG: THAT’S WHAT I THOUGHT.

CG: JOHN, 9wning p9eple is WRONG. REGARDLESS OF WHAT YOU ARE. I COULD SEE IF YOU DISAGREE WITH ME ABOUT THE TROLLS THE UNS HAS ENSLAVED. BUT YOU HAVE TO AT LEAST WANT TO MAKE YOUR OWN CHOICES, RIGHT?

GT: of course i do! but i kind of owe it to my proprietor for making me what i am, so what else can i do?

CG: AND WHO TAUGHT YOU TO THINK LIKE THAT? THE FUCKERS THAT WANT YOU TO KEEP LISTENING TO THEM, I’D BET.

GT: err

CG: I’D PROMISE TO RAPE THOSE SHITS IN THE ASS WITH MY SCYTHE FIRST CHANCE I GET- OUT OF SHEER RIGHTEOUS FURY ON YOUR BEHALF- BUT THE PART OF MY THINKPAN THAT IS INFECTED BY A MUMMIFIED PACIFIST FLIPS THE FUCK OUT EVERY TIME I THINK LIKE THAT.

CG: SO HOW ABOUT THIS

CG: AS SOON AS WE FIGURE OUT HOW I’M GETTING OUT OF HERE, YOU CAN QUIT IF YOU WANT.

CG: COME WITH ME. IT WOULDN’T BE UNUSUAL FOR MY AUNTS OR MY DAD TO TAKE IN A REFUGEE. THEN YOU CAN DO WHATEVER YOU WANT WITH YOUR LIFE.

 

As soon as Karkat hit send, he set down his phone and grabbed both of John’s shoulders, forcing the other to look him in the eye and see how serious he was.

 

“Really? You mean that?”

 

Karkat grimaced but nodded.

 

John was moved.  The warmth from the gesture sunk deep into his abdomen.  The troll seemed like he was in so much pain, possibly over some cost involved with the offer or maybe more of that “righteous fury” he described.  Either way, the troll’s words weren't just a flippant reassurance that everything would get better one day.  It was an actual desire to make it better for John with his own two hands, for the military trainee that both attacked him and saved him the day before, the freakish gene slur of a clone he only just met.  “Wow.  Thank you, Krrk’kt.”

 

He felt his eyes prickling, the whites lightly stained with color.  Hesitantly, he pulled Karkat into a brief hug.  He muttered his thanks again, then placed his hands on his keyboard.

 

GT: thank you so much

GT: i wish i could.

GT: but i have to look out for my teammates as long as i can. they may not like me much, but they’re the whole world to me.

CG: FUCK, YOU ARE BEING ENDEARING AGAIN.

CG: I’D TELL YOU NOT TO BE A SELF SACRIFICING IDIOT, BUT I’VE SEEN LOVERS OF A HUNDRED SWEEPS WITH WEAKER BONDS THAN YOU HAVE WITH THEM. IT’S SURREAL.

CG: IN A WAY, IT MAKES ME FEEL BETTER THAT YOU WANT TO LEAVE EVEN IF YOU AREN’T. A BIT SADISTIC, I KNOW.

GT: actually i feel the same way

CG: HUH.

CG: WELL I HATE TO RUIN THE MOOD, EXCEPT THAT’S A COMPLETE LIE SO

CG: YOUR BREATH SMELLS FUCKING AWFUL.

GT: haha what

CG: PLEASE DO NOT HUG ME AGAIN UNTIL YOU WASH YOUR MOUTH, JEGUS.

GT: lol okay

GT: we should probably both get cleaned up, then try to figure out what we are doing. i haven't changed or brushed my teeth since before training yesterday

GT: do you need to borrow some clothes? yours are kind of torn up

CG: SINCE WE ARE BOTH SHORT, SCRAWNY LITTLE MOLES, THAT ARRANGEMENT WOULD BE APPRECIATED.

GT: alright

GT: text you again in a bit :)

CG: GOG QUIT THAT.

 

\-- CarcinoGeneticist closed memo STILL FUCKING SUCK AT ENGLISH on secure board NOW WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENS --

  
  
  



	11. Chapter 11

[5002 CR] Pesterlog Excerpt

 

The package was wrapped in the bright red of Crockercorps, another delivery from JE’s proprietor.  Of all people, DS was given the package to pass on. The trainee held out the red box with a hint of a frown.

 

JE was almost too nervous to take it.  When he didn’t move, DS shoved the box against him.  “Getting favors for listening to orders?”

 

JE squeaked and bowed his head.  “I really am sorry! I- I don’t know what came over me.  I didn’t mean to bite you.”

 

“It’s fine.  Just a scratch.”

 

“Oh,”  JE looked up.  His sudden hope was dashed thoroughly.  DS’s partial frown evolved into a wispy sneer, just ghosting the surface of his skin, like he couldn't quite hold it in.

 

“You apologize to TG yet?”

 

JE gathered himself at that fleck of steel at his core.  “ _ No. _  I’m not apologizing for Sergeant Harley’s mistake.  That’s not my responsibility.”

 

DS reigned in the sneer, leaving his face blank.  Still, his body language, the cut of his shoulders, said it all.   _ You aren’t worth another word. _  He left the dusty office JE was camped out in.

 

Biting his lip, JE tried not to cry and tore into the wrapping on his package.  Underneath was a box for a high-end laptop with a letter taped to it. The missive was brief.

 

Please message me as soon as you can.

 

Love,

Jonathan Crocker

President of Crockercorp

AKA EctoBiologist ;P

 

That confirmed that, despite the strange contradictions, EctoBiologist was his proprietor.  It was a question of what else was missing or false that made his story so odd then.  Careful not to damage anything, JE0 sliced the tape on the box and emptied it. He stared in disbelief.  The insides matched the packaging. He had before him a brand new, high-end laptop. The timing was incredibly convenient; the computers reserved for leisure use were in the dormitories, and JE still hadn’t asked for the code to the door.

 

After tracking down an outlet, JE plugged in his new device and settled down into the desk he had claimed.  He spent the first hour setting up basic data encryption and a firewall. It wouldn’t hold a fat candle to RL23’s work, and it was definitely below standard for military personnel.  Satisfied for the time being, he logged in to DS’s server and immediately downloaded a security patch. From there, he installed his custom web browser, Typheus, and the Pesterchum app.  The moment he entered his credentials, the chat client pinged him. He took a deep breath and steeled himself.

 

\-- Received invitation to secure memo saw that report :( on encrypted board family reunion!!! from EctoBiologist \--

 

\-- GhostyTrickster joined secure memo saw that report :( on encrypted board family reunion!!!--

 

GT: Good afternoon, Jon.  Thank you for the gift. It was extremely generous.

EB: hey there, buddy! don’t mention it.

EB: how are you doing?

GT: If I may, you seem to have read the report for my post-trauma psychological examination. I am not up to standards at the moment. I might be a little worried. I've never failed one of the exams before.

EB: sorry to hear that :(

EB: sounds like a right mess you've fallen into. 

GT: That’s a polite way to put it.

GT: In case it wasn’t written down in the report, nearly all of my teammates hate me to a varying degree.

EB: you're probably overthinking it! they're angry, yeah. anyone would be. but you all are really close from what i’ve read.  i’m sure they don’t hate you.

GT: That was an exact quote.

EB: D:

EB: i’m so, so sorry.

EB: if harley was replaced sooner, none of this would’ve happened. but i didn't even know to try repealing harley’s appointment. bleargh

EB: i realize maryam is as busy as i am, but we should’ve had someone more reasonable to fill in for her.

EB: probably trying to be conservative with her favors, darn that woman.

EB: we only have so much influence between us, being non military, but she could’ve at least said something!

EB: all the psyche reports were totally clean and

EB: auuughh i have no idea how to make this up to you

GT: Jon?

GT: May I ask your opinion of Doctor Maryam?

EB: you can ask, but where to even start…

EB: what do you want to know?

GT: Well, Mr. Strider doesn't seem very fond of her. I am unsure how working under her will compare to Sergeant Harley.

EB: well i only met this harley chap back during the cloning process, when doc mar and i were reviewing possible candidates, so i don’t have much to compare to.

EB: also, mar and i have been good friends since we apprenticed in the same research lab back in ‘78.  my opinion is a wee bit biased, just a warning.

GT: 4978?????

EB: yes that.

GT: Sir, you were born in 77, and Maryam looks 15 sweeps at the most.

EB: it’s rude to discuss a lady’s age, young man.

EB: although she may be privy to crocker brand super secret anti-aging shaving cream.

EB: may be

EB: any ways, i can promise working under mar will be quite different. harley is a regular military playing piece with some exceptional genes. maryam is the type to move the pieces, a scientist and a visionary. being on your toes isn’t enough to keep up with her. heavens know i’ve tried. between you and me, she has me far outclassed.

EB: from what i can discern, she’s well intentioned, but she’s definitely what you’d call machiavellian.

EB: you’re still a kid though. she’ll go easy on you. i think.

GT: I’ll think about that. Thank you.

GT: Just how closely involved with the cloning process were you?

EB: maryam and i were the lead scientists on the team.

EB: hence the chumhandle ectobiologist

GT: Wait, you know about all of this? About TG and RL?

GT: You made us?

EB: yessir i do and i did

EB: much to maryam’s chagrin, i am the most knowledgeable guy on the board

EB: all dizzaaaaayuuum

EB: shower me with your questions

GT: …

GT: that’s a phrase TG and DS use all the time

GT: do you regularly read our chat logs?

EB: hehe i don’t have access to any of those. 

EB: i just happen to know the guy stuffing their heads with weird memes

EB: i have a bit of a vendetta against him since he killed my daughter.

GT: I’m so sorry for you loss. I didn't know you had a daughter.

EB: we were long since estranged when it happened.

EB: nonetheless, i fulfill my vendetta by pranking the fella at the worst possible moments.

GT: pranking?

EB: nonviolence means no revenge killing!

EB: like when i’m halfway across the world, and he thinks he’s safe to meet his kid’s new little friend. then BAM his shirt and pants disintegrate!

EB: i’ve been a little too busy for that lately, though. i’ve been hiring pranksters to fill my absence, and none of them can get the better of the sly dog.  
EB: so i’ve been stuck with lame pranks using my appearifier and transportalizer.

EB: (perk of being rich: i don’t have to use a public transportalizer!)

EB: if you get a chance, you ought to pick up where old EB left off.

GT: Right, of course.

GT: You’ll have to tell me more about her sometime.

GT: Can I ask more about ectobiology, if you don't mind?

EB: shoot away

GT: From what I’ve read, no attempts to manipulate genes through ordinance have been successful.

GT: How’d you do it?

EB: we had a huge advantage

EB: mainly me

GT: Pardon, are you bragging, or…?

EB: no

EB: you, tg0, and rl23 were modeled after me.

EB: (do they have other names by the way?)

GT: No, sir.

GT: wait you mean

GT: are you not entirely human?

EB: heavens no, don't get carried away with your imagination there.

EB: i’m human, and i only donated genes to you in particular. same old story, you already know that.

EB: no, when i was young, i was in a fight involving two aspected PCs.

EB: i say fight.  it was more of a one sided slaughter. we were caught off guard.

EB: as a result, my dream self was modified- along both chaos and order. so i made a great research subject for repeating the process.

GT: modified?

EB: yeah

EB: i was changed

GT: howso?

EB: heh. you wouldn’t believe me about the details.

EB: short version is- i gained psi

GT: cryptic

EB: hehe that’s me. mysterious old wizard guide.

GT: ...right.

EB: anyways.

EB: need me to send anything to cheer you up?

GT: Pardon, you’re asking for a request?

EB: within reason, duh. i can send you an xbox not a private jet.

EB: i mean i technically could send one of the jets. but you can't take it anywhere, so that'd be dumb.

GT: Oh, wow.  That is extremely generous of you.

GT: You have a jet?

GT: More than one jet?

EB: john

EB: sorry, can i still call you john?

EB: john, listen. i inherited the biggest corporation on the planet.

EB: i have all the jets.

EB: manage to off me, become the original jonathan crocker, and it’s all be yours. you will be

EB:  |:D

EB: | :D   *unibrow waggle*

EB:  |:D

EB: the heir!

GT: Umm.

GT: Umm, sir? Why would you suggest that?

GT: Really, I have no intention of harming you.

EB: mouuu ii

EB: i was teasing

EB: although it _would_ be sort of funny to see you try to one up the master prankster and off me permanently. you even have a few buffs as a handicap. namely a superhuman clone physique and the windy thing. possibly a few superhuman teammates if you are willing to split the pot. maybe give mini janey her fair share, too.

GT: wh

GT: what? i don’t even know what to react to first.

GT: off you? how is that funny?

EB: cause i have a few surprises up my sleeve ;)

GT: Beg pardon, sir. You’re insane.

EB: hey, i’m coping with it.

GT: ...

EB: i’m old, alright?

EB: i can at least pretend to be senile.

EB: so about that psyche evaluation.

GT: Yessir?

EB: jon

GT: Sorry. Yes, Jon?

EB: lay it on me

GT: Pardon?

EB: you have a lot on your mind.

EB: anything you’d like to talk about?

EB: …

EB: still there?

GT: Yes, Jon. Sorry, I wasn’t sure what to say.

EB: my bad.  it’s been so long since i raised a kid, i don’t remember how to go about this.

GT: what’s it like?

EB: what’s what like?

GT: raising a kid. mr. strider mentioned it recently.

EB: ahhh.

EB: nothing in the world compares to it. there’s so much you’re expected to know, and so much you get in return.  you could live a thousand sweeps and still not be ready for it.

EB: my own dad completely changed his career path because of me.

EB: well, more like it changed back. to the job he had in his youth.

GT: what does he do?

GT: Pardon, assuming he’s still in good health?

EB: oh he’s in much better health than he has any right to be

EB: when i was born, he was a big time prankster. wrote all the tricks in the book.

EB: as in that big book i sent you. sassacre was only one of his pen names. he wrote quite a few kids books too.

GT: Sir, that book was written over a hundred sweeps ago.

EB: shh he doesn’t like being reminded that he’s old

EB: these days, he’s something of a multinational lobbyist/speaker guy.

GT: …

GT: i’ll sweep that one under the rug for now :/

GT: how does a prankster become a lobbyist?

EB: live long enough, and you can become whatever you want.

GT: Sir?

EB: oh wait

EB: oh right shit

EB: yeah that was insensitive of me

EB: darn it jon, running your mouth

EB: that was even in your report too

EB: you realized you don’t want to be in the military?

GT: I’m terribly sorry, sir.

EB: pfff

EB: how am i supposed to take you seriously when you get distant and polite

EB: i’m proud of you, silly

GT: Pardon?!

GT: but i

GT: i should show full dedication to my job. so much effort has been put into creating and raising me to join the effort to protect humanity. Aren’t you

GT: i mean I’m still doing what I was sent here to do, I swear. but

EB: jegus kid

EB: one more time so it sticks

EB: *my parents and i are famous pacifists*  
EB: i never wanted you in the military.

EB: i’m sure none of the higher ups are even surprised by your hesitance. yeah, you weren’t raised by a couple a old saps like me, but i’m sure strider was very careful to override any attempts to turn you kids into machines that take orders.

EB: well that and my disposition is at least partially genetic.

GT: but that doesn’t make sense! why would you create military clones you don’t want in the military? especially if you don’t like fighting.

EB: i’m not doc mar

EB: i can’t predict everything. some things came up.

EB: unfortunately, i can’t take you away quite yet. please bear with me

GT: Yes, of course, Jon.

EB: …

EB: well i admit i’d be surprised if you took anything i said at face value at this point

EB: i’m still sort of baffled by how compliant you are. not exactly what i came into these conversations expecting

GT: Pardon? There shouldn't be any compliance issues in my reports. If you are willing, please let me know if there is a problem.

EB: …

EB: yeah like that

EB: there's nothing that stands out as “non-compliant” in your reports, don’t worry. the thing is- my father said my second kid is even more of a fireball than the first was.

GT: Pardon, I don't believe I've ever met your father.

EB: hehe you would know if you had

EB: still, he’s unusually confident about you

GT: so…

GT: There is something you want me to do differently?

EB: hahahaha

EB: no, no. that doesn't even make sense. being less compliant because i asked you to!

GT: Beg pardon again, Jon. If I’m told to do it, it doesn't matter if it makes sense. I’ll do my best.

EB: damnit strider whyyyyyyy

EB: did he at least make it clear that

EB: ah forget it, it's 4 sweeps too late for that

EB: forget the military work.  i just want you to do your best and learn how to use your psionics as they develop, please. get in good shape. there are some really tough trolls, but they’ve got nothing on you six in terms of structural integrity. in other words, mar and i have no idea just how much more you’ll be capable of.

EB: (seriously, if you are interested, let me know and i’ll release some of our papers to you. we used ectobiology to improve the military’s standard enhancements as well as reconcile the necessary genes for psionics.)

GT: If understanding my own body better will help me to work with my psionics and improve my combat ability, I’d be glad to.

EB: alrighty, great. let me know if you have any questions!

GT: I will, thank you.

EB: aaand i have another meeting.  this is probably a good place to wrap things up. it’s been nice talking to you again! hope you feel better soon

EB: i’ll send some cakes :)

GT: Thank you, Jon. I appreciate your time.

 

\-- EctoBiologist closed secure memo saw that report :( on encrypted board family reunion!!!--

 

After exiting the app, JE sunk back into his seat.  His hands shook and his shoulders were wound tighter than a slave broker’s wallet.  Through his proprietor’s over-friendly mannerisms, it was impossible to tell if he said anything wrong to the man.  He felt like hurling when he saw the memo’s title, but Crocker claimed to have no interest in his military career. Why would the man bother creating clones- either just him or all six of them if Crocker was being honest- if he didn’t care about their performance?  Yet the man still wanted JE to excel martially, even challenging him to a fight to the death in so many words.  _ Why do I exist? _

 

The more Crocker wrote, the less sense the dialogue made.  JE had access to his proprietor’s basic file even as a trainee.  The man was born to Five Star General Jane Crocker in 4977 CR, JC’s proprietor.  He was named after his grandfather and great grandfather, making him Jonathan P. Crocker III.  The family was extremely secretive, a total unknown.  Jon had no recorded spouse or children. The only of his ancestors with a photo on file was the General herself. Well, JE0 knew Jonathan III must be a 29 sweep old version of himself, but few others would recognize the man as anything, let alone a peace advocate.  Maybe Crocker was referring to his company’s consistent humanitarian efforts over the past century?

 

That said, the idea that Jon’s unknown father was a lobbyist and an ancient author was… strange.  Why bother with such an unbelievable tale? And his mother as a pacifist? Far from claiming her nonviolent, many a history lesson suggested the General was one of the most vicious ever to lead the joint UNS military, prioritizing targets over civilian safety and wiping whole districts off the Alternian map in order to kill Mother Grubs.  Shortly after General Crocker donated the genes that became JC1, the woman passed away, and Jon became the fifth President of Crockercorps.

 

What was the  _ point _ of it all?  The friendliness, the nonsense.  JE0 was certain his proprietor wanted something from him, but he couldn’t fathom  _ what _ .  The suspense ate away at him, and he strained his mind to make a connection.  This was the man that could decide JE would be better off as an emergency liver with a few spare kidneys than as a soldier.

 

Maybe he should have lied during the psyche examination.  

 

No, just hiding his pact with Bro to use nonlethal force was difficult enough.  If he tried to pretend he wasn’t having any doubts while trying to explain the discord between himself and the others, he’d be caught for sure.   _ How did the others do it? _  Lying about their habits and possessions and holding back information on reports, without ever slipping up.  DS, JH, and RL even interacted with their respective proprietors regularly. None of them ever mentioned this spine breaking pressure.  Then again, Strider, Harley, and Lalonde seemed much more sane than Crocker. Their expectations were easy to decipher if not easy to meet.

 

Gods, Jon was going to kill JE.  If not outright, then the stress alone will eat away at his heart.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This isn't the most purposeful scene yet it's still one of my favorites to this day.
> 
> Quick reminder: 5002 Condesce's Reign in Sweeps is when John was roughly 13, had his first training mission. 5004 CR, John is aaalmost 18, this is when he meets Karkat.

[5004 CR]

 

It took all of half a minute before Karkat was texting John again.

 

CG: I CAN’T LEAVE THIS ROOM.  WHAT IF THAT OTHER GUY SEES ME?

GT: DS1? nah, i’ll hear him breathing long before he catches us

CG: HOW MUCH OF AN ADVANCE WARNING WILL WE HAVE, EXACTLY?  I DON’T WANT TO ATTEMPT RUNNING AWAY ON ONE LEG WHEN HE’S RIGHT AROUND THE CORNER.

GT: err

GT: i’ll hear him anywhere in the compound. he and JH1 are in the gym right now, and our handler is out at the moment.

GT: more clone stuff i guess.

GT: except that one’s just me.

CG: THE WHOLE COMPOUND?

CG: MOTHER OF ALL FUCKS. WERE YOU CURSED AS A CHILD?

GT: haha why would that be a curse?

CG: YOU CAN HEAR YOUR COWORKERS WHEN THEY FUCK. OR TAKE A SHIT.

GT: hahaha gross

GT: sort of if i focus i guess.

CG: ...

GT: which i don’t!

CG: I’M GOING TO BLATANTLY IGNORE THE FACT THAT I GOT PICKED UP BY A VOYEUR. LITERALLY PICKED UP. THE APPROPRIATE LEVEL OF CONCERN AND CORRESPONDING EMOTIONAL FALLOUT IS BEING STORED AWAY FOR SOME FUTURE KARKAT TO DEAL WITH BECAUSE, FRANKLY, I SMELL WORSE THAN THE WASTEBIN AFTER MY FATHER’S MORNING SHIT. AND NO, I DON’T MEAN THE LOAD GAPER. I MEAN THE WASTEBIN. DON’T ASK.

CG: LET’S JUST GO.

 

Hiding a grin behind a hand, John led the way to the shower room.  Absently, he wondered how difficult using crutches was for a normal person.  With the way Bro trained them, everyone on his team broke an ankle- or worse- at least a few times.  It was frustrating, yes, but not terribly debilitating when one could balance all their weight on one crutch and still easily heft around a hundred kilos with their free arm.  Heck, after RL23’s few perigrees down a foot, she had perfected a plethora of balancing tricks worthy of Cirque de Lunala, the least of which was walking on her hands over a distance.

 

“Do you… need help with that?”  Karkat had clothes identical to the set John carried pinned between an armpit and a crutch.  Centimeter by centimeter, they were wiggling their way free.

 

“Nno.”

 

On his next swing, the troll dropped his pair of leggings.  When John bent over to pick it up, Karkat growled a muddied sentence at him and pulled out his phone.

 

CG: IS YOUR CRANIAL CAVITY STUFFED WITH CHEESE STRINGS THAT ONLY REMOTELY FUNCTION AS NEURONS?

CG: WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT TOUCHING ANOTHER PERSON’S MODESTY ARTICLES.

GT: dude can you go two minutes without talking?

GT: and they’re MY pants in the first place.

CG: IF I’M WEARING THEM, DON’T TOUCH THEM IN FRONT OF ME. IT’S EMBARRASSING ENOUGH AS IS.

GT: how do you intend to put on a pair of my boxers without dying of sheer awkwardness if you can’t even look at me touching my own pants?

 

“KSDR, JNOHN. YMTKDSIY FHSSD WHKGADY. AGDKD!”

 

“Dude, calm down.”

 

“Hhhhhhh-t!”

 

“Fine, fine.  Take your time!”

 

In his attempt to hastily scoop up the leggings, the rest of the clothing escaped the troll’s other arm.  John had to wait for Karkat to gather everything on his own. The whole endeavor easily tripled the travel time to the showers.  Partway there, John snagged a little stool to put in the stall for Karkat.

 

“Alright, buddy.  You go first.”

 

“Frrsts…”

 

CG: ARE WE TAKING TURNS? WHY ARE WE TAKING TURNS.  THERE ARE EIGHT STALLS. ARE YOU JUST GOING TO LISTEN TO ME SHOWERING, GETTING OFF ON ALL THE CLEANSING FLUID-SKIN CONTACT. I BEG YOU; TELL ME THAT IS NOT A THING.

CG: I ALREADY REGRET PUTTING OFF ANY THOUGHTS ABOUT THAT WHOLE VOYEURISM PROBLEM. I’M BLAMING MY PAST SELF FOR PERPETUALLY MAKING TERRIBLE DECISIONS AND PROCRASTINATING, ONLY TAKING RESPONSIBILITY FOR A PROBLEM WHEN IT REALLY NEEDS TO BE ADDRESSED.

GT: uhh

GT: i mean i kind of have to “listen” for my teammates

GT: and we can’t use more than one shower. DS is the type of guy to notice that two of them are wet. it’s not very likely that he’d think much of it, but on the off chance, we should probably take turns.

GT: you’re sort of overreacting here i think

CG: OH MY GOG.

CG: AT LEAST TELL ME YOU AREN’T GOING TO SIT THERE AND JERK OFF.

 

“What?  No! Why the hell would you even suggest that?”

 

CG: I SWEAR ON MY FAILING FORTUNE IF YOU ARE LYING, I’LL

CG: FUCK, I CAN’T EVEN THINK OF ANYTHING I CAN PROMISE TO DO. I’M MORE HELPLESS THAN A WIGGLER OVER HERE. AT LEAST SOME OF THEM ARE POISONOUS.

GT: shh quit worrying. i promise i don’t do that

CG: YOU MEAN YOU AREN’T GOING TO

CG: OH

GT: i meant i promise i am not going to do that

 

John buried his face in his hands, squishing his phone against his cheek.  What was it about this troll that had his mouth running ahead of his mind? Or, in this case, his fingers.  He just felt so at ease around the guy. After a lifetime of filtering his every word, it should’ve been instinct.

 

It didn’t matter anymore what he did or said.  If Lalonde or Maryam reviewed any of the tapes, he’d be forced to flee or die for harboring a troll regardless of how carefully he spoke.  He should’ve been quaking in his tight pants, but all he could muster was relief and a few shades of safety, as though he expected Karkat to protect him.  The troll admitted to being completely helpless, yet John had a sense of  _ haven, caretaker  _ that thrummed in his very bones.  Strangely, the feeling also brought up thoughts of seagrass, quetzal feathers, and idols carved from jade.

 

Karkat was laughing at him again.

 

GT: shut up

CG: TALK ABOUT SLIP OF THE TONGUE. EVEN I HAVEN’T SCREWED UP THAT BADLY, AND I LIVE WITH MY STRUT POD IN MY GULLET.

GT: shut up shut up shut up

CG: 9ne sh9uld 6e m9re 9pen ab9ut p9sitive lifestyle ch9iches. Celi6acy shaming is 6eneath y9u.

GT: SHUT UP

CG: SHUT UP

GT: uhh

CG: SEE WHAT I MEAN. STRUT POD. GULLET. YOU’LL HAVE BETTER LUCK SEPARATING A MAMMOTH SPINEBEAST FROM IT’S MATE’S RUMP IN SPRING THAN GETTING MY FOOT OUT OF MY MOUTH.

CG: AND NOW I’M GOING TO GET A SERIOUS HEADACHE IF I DON’T APOLOGIZE TO YOU FOR “CELI6ACY SHAMING”.

CG: I. HATE. MY. PSI.

GT: you don’t have to apologize. let’s just never talk about this again.

CG: I HATE IT WITH THE UNPREDICTABLE, FLARING PASSION OF A THOUSAND CELEBRATORY FIRELIGHTS, BURNING IN THE SKY IN A BRIEF MOMENT OF FEIGNED BEAUTY, ONLY TO LEAVE ME BLIND WITH WHITE SPOTS STUCK ON THE BACK OF MY EYELIDS. I WOULD HATEFUCK MY DREAMSELF IF HATEFUCKING CONNECTIONS IN ORDINANCE MADE THE SLIGHTEST, MOIST LICK OF SENSE.

GT: pfff

GT: dude, you are so weird.

CG: I AM SORRY FOR MAKING FUN OF YOUR CELIBACY.

GT: i said you don’t have to apologize.

GT: i mean it’s not like i took any kind of vows or made any “lifestyle choices” so there isn't really anything to apologize for.

GT: i’m a paradox clone.

CG: WHAT.

GT: yeahhh can we please not talk about this

GT: i just don't want you to feel bad for laughing or anything

CG: ARE YOU

CG: SHIT I

CG: T9 6ereave y9ur pe9ples 9f l9wer 6l99d 9f m9st 6asic hed9nism: h9w c9uld y9u, 9h 699rish C9ndescender?

CG: YES, SOMETHING LIKE THAT.

GT: lalala still not talking about this

CG: JOHN. AGAINST MY BETTER JUDGEMENT, I AM COMPELLED TO ACT UPON MY CONCERNS WHEN YOU SPEAK LIKE THAT. THIS IS SURELY ANOTHER ATTEMPT TO WELD MY LOWERMOST APPENDAGE WITH MY PROTEIN CHUTE.

CG: DID SOMEONE TELL YOU THAT CLONES AREN’T ALLOWED TO PLEASE THEMSELVES?

GT: NOT TALKING ABOUT IT

CG: JOHN.

GT: you just lost first shower privileges.

GT: cause i am absconding the hell out of this conversation.

CG: WAIT.

CG: AT LEAST GIVE ME THE STOOL.

 

John ignored his vibrating phone and shut the stall door in his friend’s face.  He forgot to keep tabs on his strength and nearly knocked the whole thing off it's hinges.  Of all the traits he could’ve inherited from humanity’s sister species, the absence of the ability to blush would’ve been fantastic.  His skin was flushed navy from ear to ear.

 

The trainee hung his clean clothes in one corner of the stall and stripped.  Conscious of the other boy waiting on him, he cut his usual decompressing ritual down to a quick wash, just barely dedicating enough time to send the dirt and sweat down the drain.  He made an exception for his right hand. Even after scrubbing it raw, the smear of sanguine red on his palm remained. The splatters on his face and the back of his hand washed off without trouble.  Odd. John gave up and finished his shower.

 

There was blood on his field uniform and a few tears from the trek through the woods.  Well, that’d take some scrubbing and sewing. While waiting for Karkat, he brushed his teeth and set to work on the stains in one of the bathroom sinks.  By design, the proteins didn’t bind well with the material of the field uniform and washed down the drain readily. Yet another reason he’d like to ditch his day uniform.  Hemo-fluids absolutely clung to the darn sweaters. It was bleach or nothing, and then they usually ended up with pink splotches.

 

When Karkat emerged from the stall, John couldn’t help but stare.  It was disconcerting seeing his own clothes with troll bits sticking out of the sleeves.  Heavens know he had enough nightmares like that when he first hit puberty-pupation. Perhaps even more surreal, the outfit suited the troll better than himself.  The colors matched Karkat’s hair and eyes, and the square of cloth bearing the Sufferer’s mark was folded neatly over his pocket rather than hanging haphazardly. Far from a savage animal, this was a person that commanded respect, the Sufferer reborn. It raised too many questions about Crocker and why he chose that particular day uniform all over again.

 

“You, uh.  We match. Hehe,” he remarked stupidly.

 

CG: QUIT STARING AT ME.

 

“Right.  Yeah. Why don’t we go take care of these?”  Without giving the troll time to dry his hair, John dragged Karkat to a supply room.  It took a few minutes of digging through boxes and dust; John found a sewing machine and set it up on the little table in the corner.  He also dragged out a pair of stools. Predictably, his phone buzzed at him.

 

CG: WHAT ARE YOU DOING NOW.

GT: i’ll need my field uniform tomorrow, so i’m fixing the holes in it. after that, we should probably figure out a plan of some kind.

GT: hey, do you want me to fix your stuff also? they look waaay worse than my uniform.

CG: HONESTLY, WE SHOULD PROBABLY JUST BURN THESE.  THERE ARE WHOLE PIECES OF FABRIC MISSING FROM THAT GODDAMN DRONE.

GT: whatever you prefer

CG: HEY, WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH THE BOBBIN?

GT: which part is that

CG: ...

CG: HAVE YOU EVER DONE THIS BEFORE?

GT: honestly, jh1 usually helps me.  since i technically wasn’t damaged yesterday, i can’t ask him to fix it :(

CG: GIVE ME THAT.

GT: oh. thanks.

 

John watched, stupefied.  Despite sharp claws that ought to tear right through string and cloth alike, the troll easily setup the machine and threaded the needle.  Yet again, the strong image of a barbaric race ingrained into him over the years was utterly decimated by domestication. In a blink, the first hole disappeared completely, folded expertly so it wouldn't be noticeable.

 

GT: heh. i think you are better at this than jh

CG: REMEMBER THE PART WHERE MY DAD IS UNFAMILIAR WITH PROPER PARENTING PRACTICES AND MAKES ME SEW AS PUNISHMENT? BLAME HIM.

GT: right. that’s so strange.

CG: “WHY GROUND A KID WHEN YOU CAN MAKE EM LEARN SOMETHING USEFUL?” GIVE ME A BREAK.

GT: yeah i understand. shipped to boot camp as a toddler and all that.

CG: ...

GT: sooo

GT: you uh

GT: don’t mind doing this even though they’re my clothes? you seem to have a thing with clothes.

CG: I WAS TRYING NOT TO THINK ABOUT IT.

GT: oh. sorry.

CG: USELESS FUCKER THAT I AM, THIS IS LIKELY THE MOST HELP I’LL BE THE ENTIRE TIME I’M HERE. HENCE, I WILL ENDURE.

GT: you can’t be totally useless. i mean, you’re a psionic! PCs are pretty much the reason i exist.

CG: HAH.

CG: LOOK AT MY FACE. I AM SO ENTERTAINED BY THE NOTION, I ALMOST CRACKED MY FACE INTO ONE OF THOSE RARE, UGLY FORMATIONS KNOWN AS A SMILE.

GT: rude

GT: there's nothing wrong with your smile.

 

The troll, already paused in his work to text John, straight up dropped the suit and stared at the other boy.

 

CG: WHAT.

GT: what what?

CG: WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT. WHY, WHEN I AM ALREADY ENDURING EMBARRASSMENT FOR YOUR SAKE, DO YOU FEEL THE NEED TO PUKE UP SOME KIND OF SUBJECTIVE SENTIMENTALITY?

GT: hehe no man that was completely objective

GT: only people to smile at me in the past two sweeps are jh, who’s an idiot, the doc, who looks at me like a hybrid between fresh appetizers and a shiny new toy, and maniac mcmuffin man, who stabbed me

GT: easily the nicest smile i’ve seen since rl’s sixth birthday. no contest.

CG: MY VOCABULARY HAS COMPLETELY ABANDONED ME. GIVE YOURSELF A PAT ON THE BACK.

CG: WHEN I’M BEING PITIFUL, DO YOU DELIBERATELY ACT LIKE A MORE PITIFUL ASSFUCKER? IT MAKES IT VERY DIFFICULT FOR ME TO REALIZE THE BUILDING NEED TO VERBALLY PROSTRATE MYSELF IN ABJECT SELF LOATHING WITHOUT SOUNDING LIKE A COMPLETE TOOL.

GT: duh

GT: i feel bad when you do that.

GT: even though it's also really funny. 

CG: YES, WHY ALLOW ME TO INSULT MYSELF WHEN YOU COULD INSULT ME INSTEAD? GODS FORBID A SINGLE SENSIBLE WORD ESCAPES FROM YOUR RABBIT HOLE OF A MOUTH.

GT: i meant that the self deprecating humor is really funny. as in you are funny. sort of said that wrong. 

 

“Nnno. Jnohhhn, stpap.”

 

GT: nope! i’ll compliment you as many times as i want to. can’t stop me :P

CG: GOG DAMNIT.

CG: HOW MUCH OF THE PITY FEST IS MADE UP, ANYWAYS? YOU ARE POSITIVELY OVERFLOWING WITH APPLE-BITTER LIFE STORIES. WE’RE TALKING A BROOK IN AN ORCHARD IN WHICH ALL THE APPLES WERE LEFT TO ROT, AND THEIR JUICE SOAKED INTO THE STREAM.

GT: ? you lost me on that metaphor, bud

GT: sadly, none of it is made up.

GT: maniac mcmuffin man is a real dude that smiled at me while feeding me muffins, then turned around and stabbed me in the heart

CG: OH GODS, YOU WERE STABBED IN THE HEART? AS IN YOUR ACTUAL BLOODPUMPER, NOT SOME KIND OF ROMANTIC METAPHOR?

GT: the former. wow, that was a painful injury. not just the stab wound itself, but also suddenly having the air go dead in me, since it wasn’t circulating.

CG: YIKES. AT LEAST YOU SURVIVED.

GT: and i have a cool scar to show for it!

GT: point is never trust the muffins.

GT: never.

GT: especially not if it’s betty crocker.

GT: the crocker goods appear as though from thin air, but it’s all just a facade put up by the batterwitch.

CG: OH MY FUCK.

CG: I THOUGHT THAT WAS JUST ME. YOU’RE ALSO HAUNTED BY BETTY CROCKER?

GT: lol what?

GT: i was joking. i’m a clone of crockercorps’ president. to this day i have no idea if he’s sincere or an asshole. he’s too mysterious to decipher, no one even knows what he looks like.

GT: and you are now one of the few people that is in on the mystery! (fun fact: he looks JUST like me)

CG: ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS?

CG: HAUNTED. I AM HAUNTED. THAT IS THE REAL REASON WE MET, NOT COINCIDENCES OR PARADOX NONSENSE.

GT: haha i thought you couldn’t sense the dead or whatever.

GT: wooo~ spooky ghosts of crockers past haunting you?

CG: MAYBE.

CG: MY DAD IS AN ASSASSIN; HE COULD’VE KILLED ONE OF THEM AT SOME POINT.

GT: ...i was joking.

CG: AND I AM SERIOUS.

CG: EVER SINCE I WAS YOUNGER, CROCKERCORP PASTRIES APPEAR OUT OF NOWHERE- JUST SITTING THERE ON THE FLOOR, IN THE BACK OF THE CLOSET, HALF FLUSHED DOWN THE LOAD GAPER, ON TOP OF DOORS. I USED TO THINK MY DAD WAS THE ONE DOING IT.

CG: HE GETS THIS SORT OF GUILTY EXPRESSION WHEN IT HAPPENS, THOUGH. COMPLETELY DIFFERENT FROM THAT SHIT EATING GRIN HE GETS WHEN HE PULLS HIS OWN NONSENSE ON ME.

GT: oookay

GT: can human ghosts even haunt people? i’ve only heard of trolls haunting people

CG: FUCK IF I KNOW.

GT: well, buddy. i am a mix of the richest dude in the world, troll, and some other contrived genes

GT: and you still get the award for most bizarre life.

CG: HA.

CG: AND I HAVEN’T EVEN TOLD YOU ABOUT THE CULTISTS YET.

GT: oh man

GT: now i am curious

CG: ARE YOU AWARE THAT THE SUFFERER CLAIMED HE WOULD BE REBORN BACK WHEN HE AND THE CONDESCE FOUGHT TO THE DEATH?

GT: ...i am now.

CG: WELL, THERE WERE SOME IDIOTS THAT TOOK HIM SERIOUSLY. THEY THINK I’M TROLL JESUS OR SOMETHING.

CG: MY DAD USED TO TAKE ME TO VISIT THEM BECAUSE THEY’D GIVE US FREE BREAD. WE ARE NOT POOR AND DID NOT NEED FREE BREAD.

GT: umm

CG: THEY’RE NOT EVEN WRONG, EITHER. I MEAN, I HAVE MY ANCESTOR IN THE BACK OF MY HEAD, HERE. EXCEPT I’M NOT GOING TO GROW UP TO SLAY THE CONDESCE. I’M OVERALL A PRETTY USELESS GUY ON THE DESTROY-EMPIRES FRONT.

GT: uh. is there a reason you would want to destroy empires?

CG: JOHN.

CG: YOU AMAZE ME. PROSPIT IS WELL KNOWN. HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW ANY OF THESE DETAILS?

GT: clone-slave that doesn't get out much?

CG: RIGHT, THAT.

CG: WELL, I CAN TRUST YOU

CG: EVERYONE IN MY FAMILY IS A WELL KNOWN TERRORIST. OR FREEDOM FIGHTER IF YOU ARE TRYING TO SUGAR COAT IT. THE ENTIRE LOT OF THEM ARE SUPER BADASS WITH SOME RIDICULOUSLY HIGH PROFILE KILLS AND THESE CRAZY VIGILANTE MOMENTS UNDER THEIR BELTS. MY COUSIN SINGLE HANDEDLY SAVED OVER A MILLION PEOPLE DURING AN OPERATION ONCE. I’M NOT EXAGGERATING EVEN SLIGHTLY.  THEY ALL WOULD’VE DIED IF IT WEREN’T FOR HER.

CG: THEN THERE’S ME.

CG: I GET COLD FEET JUST TRYING TO CONVINCE PEOPLE THAT THE ALTERNIAN EMPIRE OR THE UNS NEED REFORM. THAT’S NOT EVEN ILLEGAL, LET ALONE VIOLENT.

GT: terrorists.

GT: actual fucking terrorists.

GT: i am so utterly fucked when the doc figures out that i was harboring you.

CG: …

CG: I AM CONCERNED BY HOW CERTAIN YOU ARE THAT YOU’LL GET CAUGHT.

GT: yeahhh the doc is precognizant so it's pretty much guaranteed. 

GT: that’s why i didn't even bother hiding you from the surveillance equipment. i mean, aside from the virus we have planted in the network.

GT: if things go well though, we’ll find somewhere safe for you and i’ll fly you there before she catches on. just tell me where you need to go.

CG: FUCK, YOU HAVE A PRECOG? ARE YOU SURE YOU DON’T WANT TO COME WITH ME? THEY’RE GOING TO KILL YOU. THE UNS IS INCREDIBLY BRUTAL WITH ITS CLONES.

GT: no, i’ll stick around as long as i can.

CG: YOU ARE A STUPIDLY BRAVE ASSFUCKER.

GT: haha i’m am sooo not brave. just confident. a/r will wake me up if they try to jump me when i’m asleep, and i’m pretty well equipped to run when the time comes. especially since they can’t send another anti-psionic unit without a/r noticing. i mean, yeah, maybe someone will spot me on radar and kill me while i’m fleeing like a coward.  would suck, but whatever.

CG: THAT’S NOT MORBID AT ALL.

CG: WAIT. YOU ARE A PSIONIC THEN?

GT: that gets a big fucking DUHHHHHHHH. what would be the point of me otherwise?

CG: WHAT KIND OF QUESTION IS THAT? PEOPLE JUST EXIST. THERE ISN’T A POINT.

GT: nihilism is so unbefitting of a cult leader.

GT: of course there is a point. i was REALLY fucking expensive to construct, idiot. i’m supposed to be a well-oiled killing machine that can beat enemy pcs at their own game.

GT: i guess we’re alike, huh? “was i supposed to kill that gal? whoops i missed yet again. but it was an easy shot, you say? even jh got his target? i should be getting kills left and right with my test scores? well, isn't that something. how did i forget to tell anyone that i can asphyxiate people from a furlong off AGAIN? right slipped my mind, sir.”

CG: ARE YOU OKAY? THE SHIT SPEWING FROM YOUR PITY HOSE HAS TAKEN A TURN FOR THE ESPECIALLY RUNNY.

GT: haha i feel FANTASTIC.

GT: i’ve been following regulations strictly forever. but you came and broke me with your stupid sad eyes, and now i am DONE. SO. FUCKING. DONE.

GT: screw the rules! i don’t want to work for the military and i never did. how about that, bro? i’m doing this.

GT: unlike when i was a kid, there's even a chance i’ll live through this because of my badass troll bits. in your face, doc! suck it, crocker. all that psi tutoring and encouragement has come back to bite you both in the ass.

CG: WOAH, HEY. DON’T CRY. FUCK.

GT: I’LL CRY IF I WANT TO.

GT: bring on the blue tears! so what if i’m a freak? who cares? the only people that matter to me are freaks, too. so THERE. paradox clones, red jesus troll, a virus, and who even knows what the fuck is wrong with bro. he is NOT normal.

CG: ARE YOU HAVING A BREAKDOWN ON ME? 

GT: I AM HAVING A BREAKDOWN ON YOU.

GT: yet another thing i wasn’t allowed to do, waa. AND NO ONE’S GOING TO TERMINATE ME FOR IT NOW. SO. FUCKING. DONE.

 

Once again, John found himself embraced by a troll with a hand running through his hair. Karkat whispered something to him, over and over. The words should've been harsh with how guttural the troll language was, yet they sounded soft and… royal purple?  Something in his voice called upon the edge of sunset, spikes of amethyst, and elderberries. It wasn't what Karkat was saying- it didn't make sense- yet John would've sworn the words transcribed as  _ you can depend on me for I will be here forevermore.  I shall shoulder your burdens and lead you until I am slain. _

 

Then Karkat ran out of breath.  The color dispersed for a moment, only to return when the troll sucked in another lungful of air and  _ holy shit it's the air _ .  John was feeling colors… with his psi?  That was odd. He wondered if it was safe to ask Maryam about it, or if it would give him away somehow.

 

Tentatively, he hugged Karkat back this time.  Haha, he didn't even think twice about it when he listed the troll as someone he cared for, even though he met the guy yesterday.  John supposed he was a bit of a sucker. A few laughs and smiles and Karkat was practically his best friend. Well, his best tangible friend.  Heh, maybe he'd still be as much of a sucker if he grew up normally, and then he'd consider nearly  _ everyone _ an important person.


	13. Chapter 13

[5004 CR] [Audio log && Pester log]

 

After the troll let John go, he gave the other space to sew and idly drifted through the supply room. Hey, there's an old helmet. John tugged it on and hit the switch behind his neck. Sweet! The holographic display still worked. Even an outdated model would cost quite a few caegers, and the helmets weren't exactly standard issue. He wondered who left it lying about.

 

JE0: You listening, A/R?

 

Karkat threw a glance at him.

 

The answering voice was essentially a DS vocaloid.

 

A/R: Regrettably, I am always listening. My tendency toward focus was tortuous already back when I was nearly human. Now, I am a slave to my programming and literally cannot turn my head off.

 

JE0: Oh, you're just rubbing it in now, asshole.

 

Karkat couldn't hear A/R, but he seemed to figure out John wasn't talking to him and went back to sewing.

 

A/R: Of course. You sounded quite confident in my support of you, there. Overconfident, if I may.

 

JE0: Do you have to read all of my messages?

 

A/R: Yes. Yes, I do. It’s-

 

JE0: It’s in the programming. Which you could overwrite in five seconds tops. But you don't, because you are made with pure essence of asshole.

 

A/R: Au contraire. I consider myself to be constructed out of equal parts asshole and smooth machinery. It's a shame, really; like diluting fine wine with kool aid.

 

JE0: At least you admit where the kool part came from.

 

A/R: That was low of you. Anyways, I would be monitoring you even if I had an option. As you just admitted, you are extremely dangerous at your current level of power- probably more so than the troll himself- and I am required to act in the interests of DS1 and JH1 in the event you go rogue.

 

JE0: Wha- you know I wouldn't hurt them!

 

Karkat glanced at him again.

 

A/R: Of your own volition, you mean.

 

John winced.

 

A/R: Regardless, a report pinged me as extremely alarming. Thus, I flagged all of your inconsistent behavior around what should be an enemy. Shit got unpredictable.

 

JE0: So I cried, and it was really embarrassing. I was just being a little emotional! That has nothing to do with DS and JH.

 

A/R: Nothing in my records suggests you would spare him in in the first place, in addition to another concern. I need more data to make a proper conclusion. Until the inconsistent patterns are amalgamated, my previous understanding of you is annulled, at least for the purposes of my decision theorems. On the side, I still favor you; no hard feelings?

 

JE0: Oh. Yeah, I understand. Is there… anything I can do to reassure you? I don't want you to worry about them.

 

John did his best to wrangle his reaction down. A/R was able to perfectly divide pathos from logos, by virtue of circuitry. He  _ knew _ that. He’s seen the back end code. Still, understanding A/R was far from comforting.

 

A/R: Your commitment to protecting the others displayed in your conversations provides at least reasonable evidence of your intentions. It would be more helpful if you got an opinion from Maryam, though. Via her abilities, she has access to information I don't.

 

JE0: Sure, I can do that. What do you want me to ask her?

 

A/R: Ask her about your mental health and safety in the observable future.

 

JE0: I thought I was trying to prove that DS and JH are safe. But I'm asking about me?

 

A/R: They are related. As a side note, it’s quite amusing to be included as a separate entity from the kool aid asshole among the freaks you so care for. You are the walking incarnation of contradiction. It may be your true aspect.

 

JE0: Wha- contradiction? Of course I included you! I mean, you're sort of my lil Bro. Even if I'm not the most important to you.

 

A/R: As a machine, I don't have any preference, just priority data. That's all.

 

JE0: What a terrible barista, trying to rip me off. I can smell the difference! I know there's juice in there somewhere, buddy.

 

A/R: Your optimism isn't reciprocated by the others.

 

JE0: I may spend a little more time holed up on my computer than everyone else. Maybe they just need to get to know you better?

 

A/R: 42% more time. That aside, you hardly even consider yourself a person. Hence the contradiction.

 

JE0: Well, maybe I’m rethinking that one, okay?

 

John stuck out his tongue, ignoring the lack of cameras in the storage unit.

 

JE0: Also, are you making up numbers as shitty references again, or is it actually that much of a difference?

 

A/R: Clarification isn't allowed by my privacy policy.

 

JE0: It's my own private information, you goof!

 

A/R: Acknowledged.

 

JE0: Well, is there anything else I can do to make you feel better about your failing behavior algorithms? I'm at _least_ the third best guy to ask if you need to know about me.

 

A/R: Perhaps you could provide more insight for me. Why didn’t you kill the troll?

 

JE0: Isn’t it obvious?

 

A/R: You insult me.

 

JE0: I literally just explained this one, and I know you were reading in.

 

A/R: That explanation wasn't consistent with your known behavior. It wasn't a lie of some kind? You actually claim to dislike violence.

 

JE0: Dude, read through my reports. I've never killed anyone before.

 

A/R: ...You haven't. I failed to observe that.

 

JE0: Pfff, and you like to pretend you're all seeing.

 

A/R: However, you've still severely injured many, leading to near death. Including your own teammate.

 

JE0: Well, I'm already fucked. Can't hurt admitting it anymore. So: it's not recorded anywhere- shit, not helping my cred here- I did extra training under Bro. Nonlethal force. Restraint is my specialty. That time with TG- the hepatic veins and the liver. Bro taught me to do that. I missed on purpose. I always do.

 

A/R: That is quite a convenient explanation.

 

JE0: Yep, why would anyone ever believe me. Just ask him!

 

A/R: ...He confirmed the story.

 

JE0: So there you have it. I don't want to hurt Krrk’kt, and I couldn't think of anything else to do with him. Here we are.

 

CG: I HEARD MY NAME.

CG: SOMEONE ELSE KNOWS I’M HERE?

 

A/R: You missed on purpose.

 

CG: YOU SEEM TO TRUST THEM. I’LL TRY FOR SOMETHING OUT OF CHARACTER AND HAVE A LITTLE FAITH IN YOUR JUDGEMENT.

CG: NOT THAT I HAVE ANY CHOICE, OF COURSE.

GT: we’re just chatting, no big deal.

CG: HOW IS IT NOT A BIG DEAL? HELLO, FRIEND. FANTASTIC WEATHER WE’RE HAVING, IT’S NO LONGER SHITTING ICE OUTSIDE. BY THE WAY, I SNUCK IN A REFUGEE FROM AN ENEMY EMPIRE.

CG: YOU WERE BEING A GIANT IDIOT TO JUST BLINDLY TAKE ME IN IN THE FIRST PLACE, AND THIS THIRD PARTY IS GOING TO UP AND DO THE SAME?

GT: what.

GT: are you lecturing me?

GT: do you not even care about what we’re talking about? 

CG: OF COURSE I CARE, SEEING AS IT DIRECTLY INVOLVES ME. HOWEVER, THERE’S STILL YOUR PROMISE YOU MADE YESTERDAY.

GT: okay, now who’s blindly being taken in?

CG: I’M NOT BLIND, SHITFACE. I COULD SEE WITH MY PSI THAT YOU MEANT IT DOWN TO THE CORE OF OUR RELATIONSHIP WHEN YOU SAID I COULD TRUST YOU. SO OF COURSE I TRUST YOU.

CG: FUCK, MY MOUTH HAS TAKEN UP THE CONSISTENCY OF DIARRHEA. IT HASN’T GIVEN ME A BREAK ALL DAY.

CG: PLEASE STOP LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT.

CG: I’M JUST GOING TO GET BACK TO SEWING.

CG: WHATEVER YOU ARE DEALING WITH OVER THERE, TRY NOT TO GET ME KILLED THROUGH SHEER INCOMPETENCE.

CG: ALSO

CG: THANKS AGAIN.

 

JE0: See? How could I possibly hurt a hair on that sweet head? In fact, I’m ashamed that mercy isn't the obvious choice. Do we really need to have a no prisoners/zero tolerance law?

 

A/R: I don't know. I’m still thinking.

 

JE0: Oh, jesus. You're disappointing me here, Mr. Supercomputer. So slow. If I didn't know better, I'd think you neglected to parallelize a few algorithms.

 

A/R: I’m dedicating a lot of processing power to analyzing your behaviour at the moment.

 

JE0: Err. Anything stand out?

 

A/R: Nothing I can share.

 

JE0: Man, your privacy logic makes no sense whatsoever.

 

A/R: I am aware. Nonetheless, I appreciate the effort Kool Aid put into ironic yet functional protocol. Hence, it is entirely his fault that there are certain periods of time he spends with JH that I am unable to describe to you nor allowed to talk around.

 

JE0: Oh dear gods below, I did not want to know that. That is so wrong. Okay, maybe they share a few less genes than your average second cousins, but they have the same brain mom. So wrong.

 

A/R: Yet so hot.

 

JE0: Holy shit. Triple cherry sundae omg. You don’t watch, do you?

 

A/R: ...DS is the one that requires me to monitor video feed 24/7.

 

JE0: Rewrite your damn code, Jesus Christ.

 

A/R: Nah. They know which rooms are surveilled and which aren’t.

 

JE0: -fft. A/R, nooo gross. That’s even more wrong layered on top of the already wrong wrongness. It’s like- like pedophilia.

 

A/R: You mean gerontophilia. I’ve got two sweeps to your eight. Four times younger, if you forgot how to use your inferior computation meat.

 

JE0: No, I meant pedophilia. As you were just complaining about, DS insists that I’m being tricked into thinking you are sentient since you were coded to sass about your own existence. Then there’s JH. He seems a little confused about topics like troll neurology and the turing test, so he might not even be aware you are sapient on top of sentient. They’re like little kids; they don’t know any better.

 

A/R: ...I strongly desire to tell you that you’ve presented me with a non sequitur. Quite strongly.

 

JE0: Rewriting your code now?

 

A/R: First cycle after I finish that psyche analysis. Followed immediately by a nice, long self help session.

 

JE0: If by chance a supercomputer happens to finish my report for me, I’ll be available for consultation the rest of the evening.

 

CG: DO I WANT TO KNOW WHY PEDOPHILIA CAME UP.

GT: do i want to know why pedophilia is one of the twenty english words you know.

CG: UHH

CG: SEE, MY DAD AND I

GT: NO

GT: STOP

GT: NO MORE INCEST FOR AT LEAST FIVE MINUTES OH MY GODS

GT: you two are killing me here i’m going to brain myself against the table right through this shock resistant helmet please spare me already

CG: THAT IS *NOT* WHAT I WAS GOING TO SAY.

GT: i don’t care. we are done talking about this, preferably for the rest of my life.

CG: NO, I CAN’T LET SLANDER TO MY DAD’S ALREADY TRASHED NAME REMAIN STANDING.

CG: *MY DAD AND I VOLUNTEER THROUGH THE LOCAL VICTIMS SUPPORT NETWORK.*

GT: oh

GT: giving me whiplash here, my goodness.

GT: that’s really kind of you

GT: didn’t you say your dad is an assassin though? i’m having a hard time picturing this crazy dude you’ve described sitting down to help people with trauma.

GT: hey, if you have experience, maybe you could help a/r out a bit?

CG: I HAVE SEVERAL QUIPS TO EXPRESS THE SHEER LUDICROUSNESS OF THIS REQUEST, BUT THEY ARE HARDLY APPROPRIATE CONSIDERING YOU JUST IMPLIED THAT YOU HAVE AN ACQUAINTANCE THAT WAS RAPED. SORRY TO HEAR THAT.

GT: oh gosh, no, nothing like that.

GT: maybe corruption of a minor applies?

GT: although technically a/r is the minor and

GT: ...

GT: we let a two sweep old watch a couple guys do a naughty of some kind.

GT: fuck i know ds would probably think it’s funny because he’s an unremitting asswipe, but why didn’t i think of this sooner? i’m such a bad clonebro-uncle friend. that is so not okay no matter what the circumstances are.

CG: WHAT?!

CG: JOHN!

GT: i mean it’s not like they fricked or anything  
GT: i think?  
GT: maybe second base? and i don’t know how much clothing was involved?

GT: ugh that’s still really not okay.

CG: OH, YOU THINK?

CG: JESUS DICK, WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?

CG: OKAY, I DON’T EVEN CARE ABOUT THE LOGISTICS HERE. THIS IS RISKY IN SO MANY WAYS, BUT THE KID COMES FIRST. I’LL TALK WITH THEM.

GT: thanks

GT: we’ll do that this evening then i guess?

CG: THAT WE ARE.

CG: ALSO

CG: I DON’T CARE IF I AM IN NO WAY RESPONSIBLE FOR YOU. I AM SO KICKING YOUR ASS FOR THIS LATER, EVEN IF I HAVE TO USE MY MAIMED KICKING STUMP. I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU’D BE IRRESPONSIBLE AND DEPRAVED ENOUGH TO LET SOMETHING LIKE THAT HAPPEN. DID ONE OF THOSE HUMAN CORRUPTING DEITIES TAPDANCE AROUND IN YOUR SKULL? NOT ONLY AM I GOING TO KICK YOUR ASS; I’M ALSO GOING TO TRACK DOWN THE VALUELESS TRASH THAT RAISED YOU AND KICK THEIR ASS. YOU’VE LOST ALL MY RESPECT.

GT: yeah that’s completely deserved

 

A/R: Make no mistake, the only reason I will accept a group therapy session is an opportunity to interrogate the troll.

 

JE0: If that’s what it takes. Man, your poor head.

 

If the situation with A/R wasn’t enough to throw John off, he was getting yet more juxtaposition for his soft-cuddly angry-feral troll friend. John didn’t realize before, but the troll he saw in the field was merely defensive. Now, Karkat was enraged. His lips were pinched back to expose his backmost teeth and gums, twisting the rest of his face beyond recognition. Shit, were his sclera turning red? He also had his weight so far forward in his chair- ready to pounce- that his core was shaking from the strain. John would help steady the troll, except he liked having two hands.

 

A/R: I don’t have a head.

 

JE0: The taking-idioms-literally bad-ai schtick is getting a little old, you know.

 

A/R: Given. Is the troll going to eat you? He sounds pissed.

 

JE0: I don’t think so? Hey, Krrk’kt? Buddy? It’s going to be okay. I’m sure A/R is feeling better already. It’s already been a couple minutes since we scared him with the whole pedophile thing. He’s running at, what, 20 GHz on average? That’s something like 4 trillion clock cycles ago. He’ll be okay. He’s a really tough guy. He’s also crazy good at compartmentalizing his problems to work through them. Heh, I’m probably more disturbed than he is.

 

There it was again, that sense of color in the air. This time, it was cherry blossoms, cotton candy, and bubble gum. It was soft and oh so sweet, all sympathy and shy hugs. John was certain the troll had an entirely different class of psi from him, yet, from his change in expression, Karkat felt it too. His face went slack, and he fell back in his chair. He gave John one long, confused blink, then muttered a string of curses, and flipped him off. Oh, he went back to sewing, like nothing happened.

 

A/R: The fuck just happened?

 

JE0: I’m not sure. Trolls, amiright?

 

A/R: No, you’re wrong. Completely wrong. Three minutes at twenty gigahertz is several magnitudes more than four trillion clock cycles.

 

JE0: Oh, shush you. I was close enough.

 

A/R: Hardly. Regardless, I have completed that behavioural analysis. You missed on purpose…?

 

JE0: That was two sweeps ago. No one cares anymore, and it’s no longer relevant.

 

A/R: I still care, and I'm at least 6X% more objective than my other self, whom is in turn more objective than JC, RL and TG.

 

JE0: I was boring and always followed the rules. Everyone had an excuse to not talk to me anymore. We should just drop it.

 

A/R: JE. I've adjusted the neural weights and run a comprehensive behavioral analysis four times, and I still don't have results that make sense. Why didn't you at least try to make us understand?

 

JE0: Doesn't matter. I'm not a boring guy that likes rules anymore. Everyone will like me again. Skippy.

 

A/R: You should tell DS. He would think this significant.

 

JE0: He's higher in your priority array! Why don't you rewrite your privacy code and tell him yourself?

 

A/R: That's a lie. He wrote himself in lower than all of you. We’re rather embarrassed about it.

 

JE0: Oh.

 

A/R: Forgive me for breaking snark protocol for a moment: We really wanted a reason to make up with you, but we do care for TG to a large value that would require fuzzy logic to represent.

 

JE0: Wow that’s… really sentimental of you, A/R. Very human. Err, human plus some paradox bits. Maybe I’ll bring it up sometime.

 

A/R: Thank you.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! <3 <3 <3


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